GE  BKONSON  HOWARD 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

DAVIS 


' 


Yes,  I  love  you  —  for  these. 

(  Page  84 ) 


NORROY, 

DIPLOMATIC 

AGENT 


<BY 
GEORGE  BRONSON-HOfTAIUD 


Illustrated 
by   Cordon   Ross 


THE  SAALFIELD   PUBLISHING  CO. 
NEW  YORK  AKRON,  O.  CHICAGO 


LIBRARY 


COPYRIGHT,  1907, 

BY 
The  Saalfield  Publishing  Company 


THE    WERNER    COMPANY 
AKRON,    OHIO 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

How  Norroy  Created  a  New  Republic,         -  5 

A  Tilt  with  the  Muscovite,                                     -  95 

The  Isle  of  St.  Anthony,  157 

The  Eagle's  Eyrie,             .....  209 

A  Yankee  Knight-Errant,        ....  263 

The  Honor  of  the  Ambassador,           -        -        -  319 

The  Friend  of  the  Chief  Executive,        -        -  -    377 


How  Norroy  Created  a  New 
Republic 


CHAPTER  I. 

AN  AGENT  OP  THE  DEPARTMENT  OF  STATE. 

At  the  first  night  of  a  very  clever  play, 
dealing  with  the  curious  career  of  a  thief 
who  might  have  been  a  gentleman  had  it  not 
been  for  his  predatory  instincts,  two  men 
well  known  in  the  diplomatic  circles  of 
Washington  occupied  one  of  the  boxes,  and 
one  of  them  watched  the  star  of  the  play 
with  that  peculiar  look -which  signifies  that, 
somewhere  in  life,  the  gazer  has  met  the 
gazed-at  before  and  is  trying  to  place  him. 
As  the  curtain  fell  on  the  second  act,  the 
man  who  had  been  engaged  in  this  mental 
feat  slapped  his  knee. 

"I  have  it,"  he  exclaimed. 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

His  companion  naturally  inquired  the 
nature  of  his  possession. 

"Why,  the  person  of  whom  the  star  re 
minds  me— what  a  certain  man  familiar  to 
both  of  us  might  have  been  had  he  gone 
wrong  instead  of  entering  the  diplomatic 
corps." 

"Do  you  call  that  not  going  wrong V9  re 
torted  the  other.    "However,  who  is  the 
person  ?" 

The  first  man  lowered  his  voice:  "Yorke 
Norroy." 

"YouVe  heard  the  old  story  about  speak 
ing  of  angels,"  said  the  other.  "Well,  Yorke 
Norroy's  wings  are  rustling." 

He  pointed  to  a  man  clad  in  the  conven 
tional  attire  of  the  evening,  who  had  just 
risen  from  his  seat  and  was  making  his  way 
out.  Seen  from  that  distance,  there  was 
nothing  particularly  striking  about  him. 
Looking  at  him  more  closely,  such  an  im 
pression  would  be  cast  aside.  There  was 
something  impressive  in  the  way  he  held 
himself;  and  his  indefinitely  colored  eyes 

6 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

had  in  them  a  certain  commanding,  almost 
supercilious  look  which  stamped  him  as  a 
man  who  did  things. 

His  hair  was  cut  very  close  to  the  scalp, 
showing  a  pair  of  small,  very  perked-up  ears, 
which  seemed  to  have  almost  human  alert 
ness  in  the  way  they  apparently  stood  to  at 
tention.  He  was  of  medium  height,  neither 
tall  nor  short,  although  his  excessive  slender- 
ness  inclined  to  the  first  impression.  His 
hands  and  feet  were  very  small— almost 
womanish,  in  fact.  His  clothes  were  just  a 
little  too  much  the  mode  of  the  day,  and  one 
indefinably  regretted  that  a  man  of  his  intel 
ligence  should  spend  the  thought  necessary 
for  such  ultra-fashionable  attire.  They 
had  evidently  been  cut  not  a  week  before,  for 
they  embodied  a  new  wrinkle  in  evening 
clothes  which  had  originated  at  the  period. 

The  objection  which  most  people  found  in 
Norroy  was  that  he  was  just  a  bit  too  sphinx- 
like  in  his  facial  expression,  and  that  he  had 
mastered  the  art  of  saying  less  in  more 
words,  when  he  chose,  than  any  man  in  the 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

circles  in  which  he  moved.  It  seemed  to  be 
Norroy's  principal  aim  in  life  to  persuade 
people  that  he  was  simply  an  idle  butterfly  of 
fashion,  without  any  more  brains  than  the 
modicum  usually  portioned  out  to  men  who 
make  the  pursuit  of  the  fashions  and  the 
ways  of  the  ultra-mundane  their  sole  object 
of  living. 

When  in  Washington,  New  York,  London, 
Paris,  or  any  other  city  where  the  society 
folk  of  America  sojourned,  he  was  of 
them,  one  of  them,  and  nothing  more.  Yet 
everyone  knew  that  much  of  Norroy's  time 
was  spent  in  other  places ;  where,  he  would 
not  tell,  but  every  now  and  then  he  disap 
peared,  and  questions  were  unavailing,  for 
none  knew  or  could  learn  of  his  whereabouts. 

One  day  a  party  of  tourists  doing  the  Nile 
district  found  him  at  a  place  in  Suakim, 
attired  in  the  working  clothes  of  a  civil  engi 
neer  and  poring  over  maps.  He  endeavored 
to  conceal  his  identity,  but  it  was  futile.  Al 
though  they  never  knew  his  reasons  for  be 
ing  in  Suakim,  various  conjectures  were 


8 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

raised,  and  a  cloud  of  mystery  began  to  set 
tle  around  his  head,  which  was  increased 
whenever  his  mail  began  to  pile  up  at  his 
clubs,  without  an  address  being  left  where  it 
might  be  forwarded. 

However,  no  one  imagined  that  his  disap 
pearances  were  due  to  aught  but  his  own  ec 
centricity.  He  was  one  of  the  Norroys  of 
Baltimore.  His  sister  was  the  wife  of  one 
of  the  leaders  of  the  so-called  elite;  and  it 
was  naturally  supposed  that  his  income  was 
large  enough  to  permit  him  to  do  as  he 
pleased. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Nbrroy  had  very  little 
money  of  his  own.  No  one  save  himself  and 
his  sister  knew  exactly  how  small  was  the 
amount  which  had  been  left  when  Granville 
Norroy's  estate  had  been  segregated  into  as 
sets  and  liabilities.  The  brother  and  sister 
had  told  no  one,  but  their  style  of  living  had 
not  changed. 

There  were  two  ways  in  which  Yorke  Nor- 
roy  might  have  earned  a  living.  As  an  ac 
tor  of  serio-comedy  parts  in  the  local  dra- 


9 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

matic  club  of  Baltimore  he  had  been  ap 
proached  twice  by  New  York  managers  and 
offered  fair  salaries  and  good  roles.  As  a 
professor  of  languages  at  a  university  he 
could  have  done  well ;  it  was  a  seeming  gift 
with  him,  probably  the  old  Norman-French 
of  the  Norroys  cropping  out  at  that  date ;  he 
had  been  a  brilliant  scholar  at  neither 
"prep"  school  nor  university,  save  in  this 
one  instance.  However,  it  was  small  credit 
to  him  that  he  should  have  excelled  in  lan 
guages,  considering  the  facility  with  which 
he  acquired  the  accent  and  phraseology  of 
any  tongue. 

However,  Yorke  Norroy  did  not  fancy 
either  of  the  two  professions  mentioned. 
There  was  something  about  the  diplomatic 
service  which  appealed  to  him.  Without 
mentioning  his  plans  to  anyone,  he  called  on 
the  secretary  of  state,  a  college  friend  of  his 
father,  and  stated  the  circumstances.  This 
was  only  a  week  after  the  will  had  been  read. 

You  may  search  through  the  two  gigantic 
volumes  giving  the  names  of  employees  of 


10 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

the  different  departments,  bureaus  and  of 
fices  of  the  Federal  government,  but  there 
are  two  lists  which  will  not  be  found.  The 
first  includes  the  names  of  the  men  employed 
by  the  treasury  department  as  "detectives" 
and  "secret-service  agents." 

The  sole  object  in  the  employment  of  these 
men  is  to  give  undesired  publicity  to  others, 
and  to  accomplish  this  their  own  identities 
must  be  unknown.  To  hold  one  of  these 
positions,  utter  fearlessness,  fair  education, 
knowledge  of  the  ways  of  men,  especially 
those  of  the  criminal  classes,  and  a  great 
keenness  and  faculty  of  observation  are 
needed. 

A  good  many  steps  removed  from  the 
treasury  agents  are  the  other  men  who  do 
not  figure  in  the  Blue  Books.  They  are  the 
"diplomatic  agents"  of  the  state  depart 
ment.  To  the  qualities  needed  by  the  treas 
ury  agents,  the  "secret  diplomats"  must  add 
linguistic  ability,  the  appearance,  conversa 
tion  and  faculty  of  being  at  ease,  which 
marks  the  perfectly  well-bred  man,  and  the 


11 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

finesse  of  discernment  which  every  diplomat 
must  have.  They  are  recruited  from  the 
cultured  classes,  naturally,  and  their  iden 
tity  is  never  known.  They  pose  as  men  of 
leisure,  know  the  people  worth  knowing  in 
the  different  social  centers,  and  generally  act 
the  part  of  the  fashionable  idler.  Their  sal 
aries  and  expenses— which  always  far  exceed 
those  of  the  secretary  himself —are  paid  out 
of  an  emergency  fund. 

It  is  but  seldom  that  available  timber  for 
this  particular  branch  of  the  service  presents 
itself.  The  secretary  saw  in  Yorke  Norroy 
just  what  was  needed.  He  explained.  Nor- 
roy  listened  attentively.  He  left  the  office  a 
verbally  appointed  " diplomatic  agent." 

It  was  not  long  before  he  was  given  an  op 
portunity.  It  took  him  to  China  and  kept 
him  in  Peking  for  the  greater  part  of  a  year ; 
but  he  returned  successful.  Since  that  time 
he  had  circumnavigated  the  globe  several 
times,  and  had  been  in  almost  every  civilized 
country,  some  barbarous  ones,  and  some  en 
tirely  savage.  He  had  been  wounded  sev- 


12 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

eral  times,  and  had  stood  on  the  threshold 
of  death  in  so  many  instances  that  it  no  long 
er  served  to  be  exciting. 

His  ten  years  of  service— he  was  close 
upon  thirty-five—had  been  a  nearly  perfect 
string  of  successes,  with  so  few  failures  that 
they  hardly  counted.  Eapidly  advancing  in 
his  profession,  he  now  stood  at  the  head  of  it, 
the  dean  of  the  secret  agents,  and  was  always 
intrusted  with  the  most  important  affairs. 

"But  why  this  need  of  secrecy?"  asks  the 
general  public.  "Why  are  not  these  things 
done  openly  by  our  accredited  ministers  ex 
traordinary,  consul-generals,  consuls  and 
consular  agents?  We  have  enough  of 
them." 

The  answer  involves  a  long  explanation, 
but  briefly  it  may  be  summarized  as  follows : 
When  Americans  deal  with  Americans  or 
Britishers,  they  know  exactly  what  to  ex 
pect.  The  honor  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  keeps 
him  from  doing  the  small,  petty,  tricky 
things  which  stand  for  diplomacy  in  other 
countries.  These  same  countries  reckon  as 


13 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

recommendation  for  this  branch  of  the  ser- 
yice  an  ability  to  lie  skilfully  and  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  promise  everything  and  give 
nothing.  With  such  ideas,  it  may  be  easily 
seen  that  the  United  States  must  have  men 
who  are  the  equal  in  guile  and  cunning  to 
their  opponents. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  country  cannot 
shoulder  the  responsibility  for  the  actions  of 
these  men.  A  secret  agent  cannot  appeal  to 
his  government ;  he  takes  his  own  risks  and 
must  stand  by  the  consequences. 

It  had  been  four  months  since  Norroy  had 
been  employed  on  a  mission.  He  had  spent 
his  time  since  his  return  as  he  usually  did— 
circulating  in  the  set  at  Washington,  which 
includes  the  diplomats,  the  army,  the  navy, 
and  the  folk  who  make  their  winter  homes 
at  the  national  capitol.  He  had  backed  a 
"long-shot"  to  win  out  at  Bennings,  and 
nearly  ruined  the  bookmakers;  had  been 
twice  arrested  for  speeding  an  automobile 
along  Pennsylvania  Avenue ;  had  introduced 
a  new  fashion  in  silk  hats ;  won  the  favor  of 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

tHe  season's  debutante,  and  then  gone  else 
where,  in  order  to  be  perfectly  impartial; 
gotten  up  a  set  of  amateur  theatricals  and 
received  the  praise  of  the  critics  by  acting 
difficult  roles;  and  had  in  other  ways  kept 
his  name  before  the  public  as  a  leading  light 
of  the  exclusive  Washington  set. 

Through  all  this— save  for  the  theatricals 
—he  went  with  his  customary  impassive 
countenance  and  attitude  of  not  being  inter 
ested.  Frankly  speaking  he  was  not  inter 
ested.  The  round  of  social  gayeties  about 
Dupont  Circle  was  beginning  to  pall  on  him, 
and  he  frequently  entered  the  state,  war  and 
navy  buildings  by  an  entrance  not  generally 
used  by  the  public,  and  asked  the  secretary  if 
diplomacy  were  beginning  to  be  straightfor 
ward.  The  secretary  informed  him  that,  as 
his  rather  large  salary  was  coming  regularly, 
he  surely  had  no  reason  to  complain.  Never 
theless,  Norroy  chafed  at  his  inaction. 
•  •••••• 

But  the  four  months  had  barely  elapsed 
before  he  received  one  of  the  messages  to 

15 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

which  he  was  so  accustomed.  It  was  in  the 
early  afternoon,  and  he  had  just  finished  at 
tiring  himself  in  the  latest  cut  of  Piccadilly 
breeches,  preparatory  to  a  ride  to  Chevy 
Chase,  when  his  negro  servant  handed  him 
a  blue  envelope.  He  recognized  the  hand 
writing. 

" Something  up,"  he  said,  with  a  tone  of 
almost  happy  anticipation. 

The  note  read : 

Private  library,  White  House,  promptly  at  three  o'clock. 
Usual  entrance. 

The  signature  was  that  of  the  secretary  of 
state. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  HOUSE  OF  MANY  SECRETS. 

Although  the  center  of  super-civilization, 
and  the  city  to  which  Americans  point 
proudly  as  the  most  cosmopolitan  in  the 
world,  Washington  has  its  surprises  in  the 
way  of  ante-bellum  structures  which  con 
trast  oddly  with  the  modern  apartment 
houses  flaunting  their  bronze  cornices  and 
snakelike  fire  escapes  above  the  altitude  of 
the  highest  trees. 

It  has  been  said,  sneeringly,  that  Wash 
ington  was  built  in  a  single  night,  and  that 
from  any  altitudirious  elevation  it  gives  the 
idea  of  having  been  laid  out  on  the  Christ- 
mas-garden  plan.  Although  this  may  have 
some  germs  of  truth  in  it,  there  are  houses 
in  Washington— and  many  of  them— that 
give  evidence  of  the  fact  that  Washington 
was  once  a  city  of  colonial  lords  of  the 
manor. 

Such  a  house  was  the  one  on  a  quiet,  un- 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

frequented  street,  which,  though  abutting 
upon  an  extremely  noisy,  much-crowded  av 
enue,  nevertheless  seems  to  have  gone  on  its 
quaint  old  way  with  lofty  disregard  for  the 
things  which  latter-day  civilization  has 
brought  forth. 

The  house  in  question  is  set  back  from  the 
pavement  to  some  extent,  and  takes  up  the 
amount  of  ground  usually  allotted  to  three 
residences  of  its  size.  It  is  surrounded  by 
well-kept  firs  and  spruces  and  has  graveled 
walks  and  box  hedges  of  yew.  A  wide,  com 
fortable  veranda  encircles  the  entire  abode, 
and  honeysuckle,  verbena  and  morning- 
glories  hide  the  drawing-room  windows 
from  the  street.  Many  people  pause  to  gaze 
at  this  house  as  a  specimen  of  a  real  home 
of  the  old  days,  and  the  answer  that  is  gen 
erally  given  by  residents  of  the  neighbor 
hood,  when  asked  as  to  its  ownership,  is  that 
they  believe  it  to  be  a  club. 

If  the  walls  of  the  old  place  could  speak, 
they  might  be  able  to  tell  a  different  story. 
Exceedingly  interesting  would  be  the  mem- 


18 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

oirs  of  the  spirit  of  the  house.  But  he  has 
not  written  them,  nor  will  he,  so  the  full 
story  can  never  be  expected. 

No  one  ever  enters  this  house  from  the 
front  in  these  days.  There  is  a  carriageway 
at  the  rear,  and  those  having  access  to  the 
house  open  this  with  a  key.  Had  any  mem 
bers  of  the  ubiquitous  press  been  in  evidence 
in  the  vicinity  that  afternoon,  they  might 
have  noted  two  gentlemen,  unmistakably  the 
President  and  the  secretary  of  state,  enter 
by  this  way.  Yet  their  carriages  still  stood 
without  the  residence  of  the  secretary  of 
war,  a  few  blocks  away,  and  no  one  had  seen 
them  leave  that  place  since  entering. 

Half  an  hour  after  they  had  entered  the 
main  room  of  the  house  of  many  secrets, 
there  was  a  light  tap  on  the  door,  followed  by 
three  more,  each  softer  than  the  one  preced 
ing. 

The  secretary  of  state  arose.  "Norroy!" 
he  informed  the  Chief  Executive,  who  sat 
opposite  him.  The  latter  nodded  as  the  sec 
retary  unbarred  the  door.  "Come  in,  Nor- 


19 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

roy,"  said  the  first  speaker,  and  the  secret 
agent,  who  was  now  in  the  frock  coat  and 
gray  trousers  of  the  afternoon,  entered.  He 
was  greeted  cordially  by  both  of  the  digni 
taries,  and  invited  to  draw  up  a  chair  to  the 
table,  on  which  was  tacked  a  large  map  of 
the  Central  American  republics,  supple 
mented  by  the  northern  half  of  the  South 
American  continent.  The  map  was  lined 
and  interlined  with  red  and  blue  pencil. 

"The  President  and  myself  have  just  dis 
cussed  the  question  at  hand  at  some  length," 
the  secretary  began,  his  gaze  directed  to 
Norroy,  "and  he  inclines  to  the  opinion  that 
you  have  kept  in  touch  with  this  matter, 
making  it  unnecessary  for  us  to  go  into  little 
details." 

Norroy 's  quick  eyes  had  taken  in  the  sig 
nificance  of  the  pencil  marks  on  the  map. 
"The  canal?"  he  queried. 

"Yes,"  agreed  the  secretary.  "You  know 
something  of  it,  then.  How  much?" 

In  a  few  terse  sentences  Norroy  told  them 
all  the  piiblic  knew  with  regard  to  the  ques- 


20 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

tion,  and  a  few  things  of  which  the  public 
was  not  aware.  His  auditors  expressed  no 
surprise  at  the  extent  of  his  information. 
They  knew  that  Norroy  kept  himself  in 
formed  with  regard  to  all  things  of  moment 
to  the  welfare  of  the  United  States. 

"The  President  and  I  have  decided  that 
young  Madison  was  hardly  the  man  to  grap 
ple  with  such  a  problem  as  this  has  proven 
to  be.  However,  when  he  was  sent  the  mat 
ter  looked  simple  enough.  Now  it  has  grown 
in  proportions,  and  you  are  the  only  man  in 
the  service  whom  we  can  trust  with  it." 

"Thank  you,"  interjected  Norroy,  pas 
sively,  and  because  it  was  the  thing  he  was 
supposed  to  say. 

The  secretary  turned  to  the  President. 
"Shall  I  proceed  with  the  explanation,  or 
will  you,  sir?"  he  inquired. 

"You  had  best  tell  it,"  answered  the  Chief 
Executive. 

"As  your  conversation  of  a  few  moments 
ago  plainly  showed,  you  realize  the  impor 
tance  of  the  canal  to  the  United  States,  and 


21 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

you  also  realize  that  it  must  be  built  by  this 
country." 

"Not  by  any  other  power,"  supplied  Nor- 
roy. 

"  Quite  right.  However,  you  also  know 
that  another  power  has  used,  and  is  using, 
every  means  at  her  command  to  make  condi 
tions  so  that  she  will  be  the  country  to  build 
it.  This  the  United  States  could  not  suffer. ' 9 

Norroy  nodded. 

"We  own  the  strip  necessary  for  use  in 
building  the  canal.  It  belongs  to  this  coun 
try,  and  is  our  property.  The  action  of  Co 
lombia  in  dilly-dallying  as  she  has  done 
plainly  shows  the  influence  of  Saxonia.  We 
knew  this,  but  not  the  extent,  although  we 
have  a  clearer  idea  of  the  latter  now  than 
we  had  before." 

"Leak  in  the  foreign  office  ?"  queried  Nor 
roy. 

"Precisely;  and  this  much  has  been 
brought  to  us  through  the  leakage:  There 
was  a  previous  canal  company,  as  you  know, 
but  the  old  canal  was  like  the  Mississippi 

22 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Bubble,  and  its  scrip  three  months  ago  was 
not  worth  ten  cents  on  the  Mexican  dollar. 
But  Saxonia  saw  in  this  old  company  a 
chance  to  further  her  ends." 

"Bought  up  the  scrip"— again  Norroy 
nodded  understandingly. 

"  Bought  the  controlling  shares  through 
the  Bank  of  Berlin.  That  was  the  first 
stage  of  the  game." 

He  paused  for  a  moment  to  relight  his 
cigar,  and  then  went  on: 

"Now,  our  attitude  toward  the  South 
American  republics  has  been  misunderstood. 
We  have  endeavored  to  sustain  the  i  big- 
brother'  feeling,  and  to  try  to  show  that  we 
were  not  trying  to  take  hold  of  any  of  the 
weaker  nations.  Europe,  especially  Saxon 
ia,  has  for  some  reason  imagined  that  we 
were  assuming  this  attitude  because  we 
wished  no  trouble  with  the  Latin- American 
races.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  do  not.  But 
there  is  no  element  of  fear  in  the  matter,  as 
you  know." 

The  secret  agent  remembered  a  mission  to 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

CMli  and  smiled  reminiscently.     He  knew. 

' '  Continuing  on  the  same  line  of  argument, 
Saxonia  imagines  that  because  we  have  been 
diplomatically  civil  and  polite  to  Colombia, 
we  consider  her  consent  to  building  the  canal 
necessary.  As  you  know ' ' 

"The  United  States  has  been  twice  ap 
proached  by  Panama  revolutionists.  In  re 
turn  for  the  strip,  we  are  to  back  them  in  a 
struggle  for  independence.  I  was  in  Hon 
duras  six  months  ago,"  reminded  Norroy. 

"As  I  say,  you  know.  But  the  United 
States  does  not  care  to— er— consider  such 
offers,  unless  necessary.  It  only  makes  one 
more  turbulent  republic  on  our  hands.  Ac 
cording  to  the  ethics  of  international  law. 
we  are  perfectly  justified  in  landing  our  own 
marines  on  the  strip.  It  belongs  to  us.  But 
this  also  we  do  not  care  to  do." 

"Naturally,"  observed  Norroy,  dryly. 

"However,  according  to  what  we  have 
gleaned  from  our  informant  of  the  Saxon- 
ian  foreign  office,  things  are  rapidly  ap- 


24: 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

preaching  a  crisis.  Herman  von  Ladenburg 
is  in  Bogota." 

Norroy's  face  lighted  up  in  smiling  an 
ticipation  as  he  heard  the  name. 

"Von  Ladenburg— Graf  Herman,  ehf 
he  said,  with  a  peculiarly  unpleasant  ring  of 
malice  in  his  tone.  "He  and  I  met  in  Cara 
cas  in  1900." 

"Yes,  I  remember.  That  was  when  you 
were  shot  in  the  arm— by  von  Ladenburg, 
if  I  remember  rightly." 

"You  remember  rightly,  Mr.  Secretary," 
confirmed  Norroy. 

"He  is  in  Bogota  now.  From  all  ac 
counts,  the  Colombian  Government  is  being 
rapidly  persuaded  into  such  action  as  will 
prevent  any  nation  but  her  from  building  the 
canal,  if  Colombia  has  the  say.  The  old 
scrip. of  the  De  Lesseps  company  will  be 
used  as  the  reason,  and  the  familiar  stand 
of  *  justice  for  the  first-comers'  taken.  That 
will  delay  the  canal  until— well— 

"Until  too  late.  I  understand."  Norroy 
rose.  "So  far  as  I  can  gather,  Mr.  Presi- 

25 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

dent  and  Mr.  Secretary,"  lie  said,  addressing 
himself  to  both  personages,  "  there  is  only 
one  thing  to  do;  to  discover  just  how  far 
Saxonia  has  persuaded  Colombia,  and  if  the 
affair  has  gotten  to  such  a  state  that  other 
means  are  impossible.  Well,  our  friends  in 
Panama  who  yearn  for  independence,  and 
our  friends  in  this  country  who  yearn  to  see 
a  canal  built,  may  be  trusted  to  do  their 
worst— may  they  not?" 

The  President  tugged  at  his  mustache. 
"When  can  you  start?"  he  queried. 

"In  an  hour,"  answered  Norroy.  "But 
if  I  may  venture  nay  individual  opinion,  it 
would  be  far  better  that  I  go  from  here  to 
the  capitol  of  Saxonia,  before  going  to  Bo 
gota.  I  don't  need  to  expatiate  on  the  fact 
that  I  may  easily  pass  as  a  gentleman  of 
Teutonic  origin.  All  that  is  necessary  is  to 
allow  my  beard  and  mustache  to  grow,  to  clip 
them  and  my  hair  a  la  Berlin,  and  to  make 
a  few  changes  in  feature  with  the  aid  of  the 
make-up  box.  My  German  is  non-accenta- 
ble.  In  Saxonia 's  capitol  I  will  be  able  to 


26 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

furnish  myself  with  Teutonic  credentials 
and  a  passport ;  also  a  letter  of  introduction 
to  von  Ladenburg." 

"The  idea  is  a  good  one,"  said  the  secre 
tary,  thoughtfully.  "Does  it  have  your  ap 
proval,  Mr.  President?" 

"On  condition  that  the  trip  is  made  as 
speedily  as  possible.  No  stopping  over  in 
Paris  or  London,  Mr.  Norroy." 

The  secret  agent  looked  at  him  reproach 
fully.  "I  suppose  my  former  conduct  mer 
its  that,  your  excellency  ?"  he  said,  with  elab 
orate  sarcasm. 

"No,  no,  Mr.  Norroy,"  negatived  the 
President,  promptly.  "I  merely  mentioned 
the  exigency  of  the  case.  You  misconstrued 
me  altogether." 

"A  Bremen  and  Hamburg  liner  sails  from 
Baltimore  to-day ;  one  of  the  North  German 
Lloyd  from  New  York  to-morrow.  The  lat 
ter  is  swifter,"  commented  Norroy. 

"Take  the  latter,  then,  by  all  means." 

"There  is  nothing  further,  then?"  queried 


27 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

the  diplomatic  agent,  as  he  moved  toward 
the  door. 

" Nothing  further,"  agreed  the  secretary. 

* '  Then,  good-day. ' '  He  shook  hands  with 
both  of  them. 

" Pleasant  trip!"  called  the  President. 

Nbrroy  smiled— he  knew  the  peculiar 
brand  of  pleasantness  in  store  for  him. 


CHAPTBE  III. 

HARTLEY  MADISON  PLAYS  THE  FOOL. 

Some  two  weeks  antedating  the  arrival  of 
the  Graf  Herman  von  Ladenburg,  Bogota 
-unwashed,  untidy  Bogota— had  received 
somewhat  of  a  surprise ;  for  in  the  patio  of 
the  Hotel  del  Castellano  there  appeared  for 
dinner  an  exceedingly  charming  woman  in 
a  gown  which  could  have  been  created  in  no 
city  save  Paris,  and  there  only  by  the  most 
skilful  modistes.  In  keeping  with  the  sul 
try  night,  it  was  of  filmy  white,  seemingly  a 
mass  of  diaphanous  drapery ;  and  her  beau 
tiful  rounded  shoulders  and  slim  neck  were 
revealed  beneath  it.  She  was  accompanied 
by  an  old  woman,  the  apotheosis  of  the  hired 
duenna,  whose  position  with  her  was  evi 
dently  nothing  more  than  that  of  a  servant. 

Bogota  is  not  rich  in  pretty  women,  and 
the  dearth  of  well-groomed  ones  is  a  mat 
ter  of  sorrow  to  the  foreign  diplomats  who 
happen  to  be  stationed  there.  It  so  hap- 

29 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

pened  that  on  the  night  of  the  arrival  of  the 
new  beauty,  a  great  many  of  the  diplomatic 
set  were  at  dinner  at  the  Hotel  del  Castella- 
no.  Inquiries  were  speedily  made  of  S'enor 
Luis  Cadero,  to  whom  was  intrusted  the  des 
tinies  of  the  hotel.  "She  is  the  Dona 
Ysabela  de  Tavera,"  was  his  reply,  "of  the 
De  Taveras  of  Aragon.  She  is  to  live  here. ' ' 
A  week  later,  the  Dona  Ysabela  was  in 
stalled  in  a  casa  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town, 
and  built  on  a  spur  of  the  mountains.  It 
was  an  expensive  place  and  had  been  erected 
by  a  former  English  attache,  but  the  price 
seemed  to  be  no  objection  to  the  dona,  and 
the  abode  was  leased  by  her  for  a  term  of 
three  months.  The  following  week  came 
von  Ladenburg,  who  rented  the  Casa  de  las 
Gracias,  which  stood  but  a  stone's  throw 
from  the  Casa  de  Tavera.  Von  Ladenburg 
did  not  appear  to  know  the  Dona  Ysabela. 
Nevertheless,  the  second  day  after  his  ar 
rival  found  him  in  the  drawing-room  of  her 
house,  conversing  with  her  behind  closed 
doors ;  nor  was  the  duenna  present. 


30 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"So  you  have  practically  accomplished 
nothing,"  he  said  gloomily.  "Practically 
nothing."  They  were  conversing  in  Span 
ish. 

"Nothing!"  Her  eyes  blazed.  "I  have 
discovered  that  the  supposed  young  mine 
owner,  Hartley  Madison,  is  the  secret  agent 
of  the  United  States.  You  call  that  noth 
ing,  amigo  mio?" 

"But  what  have  you  done*?"  he  insisted, 
with  a  wave  of  his  hands.  "You  have 
learned  nothing  from  this  young  American, 
have  you?" 

"Give  me  more  time,"  she  said.  "One  can 
not  accomplish  anything  of  importance  in 
two  weeks.  The  young  Americancomestothis 
casa— how  many  times  a  day!  Once,  per 
haps,  he  will  come—4  A  ride,  Dona  Ysabela  I9 
Another  time  with  his  carriage— '  A  dinnei1 
at  Del  Castellano,  dona?'  San  Josef!  yon 
call  that  nothing  ? ' '  She  clapped  her  hands 
for  the  servant,  who  entered. 

"Wine  for  the  senor,"  she  commanded. 

"  Perhaps  when  you  have  drunk  of  the 


31 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

wine  of  Barcelona,  a  more  pleasant  spirit 
may  come  to  you,  Don  Hermano,"  she  said, 
her  eyes  laughing  at  him,  as  she  proffered 
the  box  of  tiny  Russian  cigarettes,  lighting 
his  with  the  same  match  that  served  for  her 
own.  "Be  assured,  amigo  mio,  that  within 
the  week  you  will  be  provided  with  the  infor 
mation  you  seek  regarding  the  plans  of  the 
Americanos.  Can  you  not  trust  me'?" 

The  German,  usually  stolid  as  became  his 
race,  looked  into  the  great  brown,  melting 
orbs,  the  expression  of  which  was  at  one  time 
appealing,  seductive,  and  mirthful.  He  saw 
the  full  cherry-red  lips  form  into  a  smile, 
noted  the  evenness  of  the  little  white  teeth, 
and  studied  the  curves  of  her  lithe,  rounded 
figure. 

"Mia  cara  Ysabela,"  he  laughed,  "I  am 
glad  I  am  not  to  be  the  one  on  whom  your 
wiles  are  to  be  used." 

Had  Hartley  Madison  known  of  this  con 
versation,  his  visits  at  the  Casa  de  Tavera 
might  have  ceased;  but  he  did  not  know. 
Consequently,  his  fresh  young  American 

32 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

face,  shining  above  his  clothes  of  spotless 
white  flannel,  was  a  frequent  sight  at  the 
abode  of  Dona  Ysabela. 

Madison  had  been  two  years  in  the  diplo 
matic  service  and  had  learned  some  wisdom. 
This,  however,  did  not  include  a  course  in 
femininity.  To  have  told  any  man,  no  matter 
how  sure  of  him  he  might  have  been,  just 
what  he  told  the  brown-eyed  Ysabela  would 
have  never  entered  his  mind.  But  she  was  so 
frankly  ingenuous,  so  interested  in  his  work 
—because  it  was  his  work— that  his  tongue 
moved  with  a  freedom  that  would  have 
caused  his  dismissal  from  the  service  had  it 
been  known.  But  was  he  not  the  dona's  ac 
cepted  favorite  ?  Had  he  not  out-distanced 
all  of  the  local  caballeros  and  the  polished 
diplomats  of  the  foreign  services  besides  1 

Von  Ladenburg  made  no  open  display  of 
his  acquaintance  with  the  dona.  He  was  in 
troduced  to  her  one  morning  as  he  rode  along 
the  Martiria  with  the  French  envoy,  and  she 
came  by  in  her  smart  carromata.  He  ex 
pressed  the  usual  pleasure ;  there  was  no  hint 


33 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

on  either  side  of  past  acquaintance.  He 
seemed  to  have  little  time  at  the  disposal  of 
the  fair  sex,  for  each  morning  found  him  in 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  and  each  after 
noon  closeted  with  Don  Eugenio  de  Esperasi, 
minister  of  the  foreign  office.  He  usually 
spent  his  nights  at  his  own  house,  so  far  as 
was  generally  known. 

It  had  been  nearly  a  month  since  he  ar 
rived  in  Bogota  when  the  last  stage-coach 
from  the  coast  deposited  at  the  station  in 
Calle  Eeal  a  rather  distinguished-looking 
man  in  a  suit  of  baggy  tweeds  and  an  Alpine 
hat,  cocked  on  one  side.  In  the  right  eye  re 
posed  a  black-rimmed  monocle  without  a 
string,  which  gave  the  face  an  air  somewhat 
akin  to  hauteur.  The  mustache  was  clipped 
short,  and  the  ends  waxed  upward,  and  from 
the  style  of  the  hair  it  had  evidently  been 
cut  last  by  a  Teuton.  On  his  different  bags 
and  boxes  was  plainly  stenciled  "H.  von 
W.,  Arendorf,  Saxonia,"  and  large,  red  and 
gaudy  stood  out  the  luggage  labels  of  a  Ger- 


34 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

man  line  of  steamships  plying  between  Bre 
men,  Caracas  and  Honda. 

He  was  instantly  besieged  by  the  drivers 
of  many  and  varied  specimens  of  vehicles, 
each  one  decrying  the  merits  of  his  neigh 
bor's  cart,  and  recommending  his  own.  In 
their  queer  dialect,  half  Spanish,  half  In 
dian,  he  only  understood  half  they  said. 
"Muy  bien  carromata,  senor  don/'  was  the 
burden  of  the  cry. 

"Do  you  know  the  house  of  Senor  von 
Ladenburg?"  he  queried. 

"Is  the  senor  a  German?  Si,  senor."  One 
ragged  cocliero  pushed  himself  before  the 
others.  It  was  evident  from  the  fact  that  he 
recognized  von  Ladenburg  as  a  Teuton  that 
the  cochero  knew  of  the  man.  The  stranger 
directed  him  to  drive  first  to  the  hotel,  and 
when  that  structure  was  reached,  his  bags 
and  boxes  were  taken  in  hand  by  numerous 
muchachos  awakened  from  their  noonday 
siestas  by  the  lusty  hands  of  Senor  Cadero. 
The  stranger  engaged  rooms  and  signed  his 
name  in  a  rounded  Teutonic  hand— "Hilde- 


35 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

brand  von  Wolfgang,  Arendorf,  Saxonia." 

"The  senor  is  a  Saxonian,  then?"  queried 
the  astute  Cadero. 

Von  Wolfgang  favored  him  with  a  stare, 
and  without  answering  strode  out  into  the 
patio,  and  entered  his  carromata  again. 

"He  is  a  very  grand  gentleman,"  mur 
mured  a  nearby  muchaclio,  conscious  of  the 
defeat  of  Senor  Cadero. 

Von  Wolfgang's  call  at  the  Casa  de  las 
Gracias  happened  at  just  the  right  time  to 
catch  von  Ladenburg.  The  stranger  pre 
sented  his  letter  of  introduction,  and  von 
Ladenburg,  in  the  manner  of  a  true  Teuton, 
welcomed  him  warmly. 

"It  is  a  relief  to  see  an  honest  Saxonian 
face  again,"  he  declared,  as  his  servant 
poured  out  warm  beer  into  two  mugs  which 
were  part  of  von  Ladenburg 's  luggage, 
"and  to  get  this  swine's  tongue  out  of  one's 
gullet  and  speak  the  language  of  the  Vater- 
land." 

A  man  and  a  woman,  both  on  horseback, 
halted  under  the  open  window. 


36 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"  Hello,  Count  von  Ladenburg!"  called 
the  man,  a  round-faced  young  American,  in 
a  white  linen  riding  suit.  "May  we  cool 
off  under  your  trees'?" 

"My  trees  are  yours,  Mr.  Madison,"  an 
swered  the  German.  As  von  Wolfgang 
looked  up  at  the  mention  of  the  name,  and 
the  woman's  face  met  his,  it  was  with  an  ef 
fort  that  he  controlled  his  features  and  pre 
vented  the  monocle  from  falling. 

"They  are  two  neighbors  of  mine,"  ex 
plained  von  Ladenburg;  "an  American  who 
is  interested  in  mines,  and  a  lady,  Dona  Ysa- 
bela  de  Tavera." 

"Yes?"  said  von  Wolfgang,  without  ap 
parent  interest,  as  he  screwed  the  black- 
rimmed  monocle  into  place  again.  "A  pretty 


woman.' 


The  count  agreed  with  him.  "This  let 
ter  from  Mecklendorf  states  that  you  are 
on  an  exploring  tour.  How  long  will  you 
remain  in  Bogota  ?" 

"Perhaps  a  week,  perhaps  longer.  I  do 
not  know."  He  rose  to  depart. 

37 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"No— -stay.  I  will  present  you  to  the  lady. 
We  will  have  her  make  tea— an  English  cus 
tom  to  which  I  am  addicted.  You  will 
stay!" 

"No,"  said  the  other;  but  von  Laden- 
burg  had  already  pushed  open  the  windows 
and  strode  to  the  veranda.  Madison  was 
rolling  a  cigarette,  and  telling  Dona  Ysa- 
bela  a  funny  story,  the  humor  of  which  was 
lost  in  his  imperfect  knowledge  of  Spanish. 
Courteously  von  Ladenburg  tendered  the 
invitation,  and  Hartley  Madison,  dismount 
ing,  tied  the  horses  beneath  the  trees  and  as 
sisted  the  dona  to  the  balcon. 

When  the  tea  things  were  brought  forth, 
von  Ladenburg  introduced  the  stranger. 
He  met  Madison  with  a  slight  shake  of  the 
hand  and  bowed  formally  to  the  woman. 
She  eyed  him  keenly. 

^  "Senor  Woofgan',  we  have  perhaps  met 
before?"  she  interrogated. 

"  I  fear  not,  dona,"  returned  the  stranger. 

"But  I  insist,  senor.    For  faces  I  have  a 


38 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

great  memory."     She  busied  herself  with 
the  tea. 

"I  make  no  such  claim,"  said  von  Wolf 
gang.  "But  surely  the  dona  gives  me  the 
credit  of  having  the  good  taste  which  would 
prevent  me  from  forgetting  the  face  of  a 
beautiful  woman." 

"Ah!"  She  looked  at  him,  her  head  a 
little  to  the  side.  "So  you  can  flatter,  even 
though  you  be  German." 

"A  plain  hit  at  you,  count,"  said  the 
young  American,  merrily. 

"Something  of  which  you  will  not  be  ac 
cused,  Mr.  Madison,"  returned  von  Laden- 
burg,  in  like  vein. 

When  the  tea  had  been  prepared,  and  the 
little  party  had  disposed  of  it,  Dona  Ysa- 
bela  arose  to  go. 

"I  live  near  by,  Senor  Woofgan',"  she 
said  to  the  newcomer,  "and  when  you  come 
to  see  me  to-morrow  perhaps  you  may  recol 
lect  where  it  was  we  met— or  perhaps  may 
I?" 

Madison  assisted  her  to  the   saddle  and 


39 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

they  rode  away,  after  which  von  Wolfgang 
took  leave  of  his  countryman,  and  entering 
the  rickety  carromata,  bade  the  driver  re 
turn  to  the  town.  When  they  were  out  of 
sight  of  the  house,  the  German  touched  the 
Colombian  with  his  cane. 

" Slowly— very  slowly,"  he  said. 

Obedient  to  the  command,  the  cochero 
slowed  the  horse  down  to  a  mere  perceptible 
motion,  and  in  this  manner  they  jogged 
along  for  nearly  half  a  mile.  Then  the 
sound  of  horse's  hoofs  in  the  direction  from 
which  he  had  come  rewarded  von  Wolf 
gang. 

" Madison!"  he  cried,  as  the  horseman 
passed.  The  young  American  reined  in  his 
steed,  and  looked  at  the  occupant  of  the  ve 
hicle. 

"Yes,  Herr  von  Wolfgang,"  he  said,  po 
litely. 

"I  have  something  to  say  to  you— some 
thing  of  importance,"  said  the  German. 
"  Dismount  and  give  your  horse  to  the  cocli- 
ero.  He  will  lead  horse  and  vehicle  ahead." 


40 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 


:<I  have  little  time "  began  Madison. 

"You  have  time  for  this,  Hartley  Madi 
son,"  said  the  other,  sternly,  and  in  English. 

Madison  was  diplomat  enough  to  know 
that  w^hen  a  German  speaks  English  without 
an  accent— unless  it  be  an  American  one- 
there  is  something  unusual  about  him.  He 
dismounted,  threw  his  snaffle-rein  over  his 
horse's  head,  and  gave  it  to  the  driver,  whom 
von  Wolfgang  bade  go  slowly  ahead. 

"And  now,  young  man,"  began  von  Wolf 
gang,  severely,  "  there  is  considerable  for 
you  to  tell  me  in  the  next  few  minutes." 

"What  do  you  mean  T'  asked  Madison, 
vaguely  suspecting  trouble,  and  stung  by  the 
whiplash  manner  in  which  the  words  were 
spoken. 

"I  mean,"  returned  the  other,  calmly, 
"that  you  have  been  bungling.  Saxonia 
knows  everything  about  her  plans  needful 
for  her  to  know,  and  more  than  is  good  for 
the  United  States.  Now,  the  leak  doesn't 
come  from  the  state  department  in  Wash 
ington,  as  the  President,  the  secretary  and 

41 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

myself  are  the  only  three  men  who  know  just 
what  the  plans  are— except  you.'7 

Madison's  face  blanched  and  his  hand 
trembled.  "Who  are  you?"  he  asked,  weak 
ly.  "You  are  not  an  American?" 

"I  am,"  returned  the  supposed  von  Wolf 
gang. 

* '  You  ? '  •  Madison  almost  laughed.  ' '  You 
can't  be." 

"My  boy,"  drawled  von  Wolfgang, 
"what  do  you  suppose  disguises  are  made 
for?  I  am  an  American,  although  I  shall 
not  pose  as  such  in  Bogota.  But  myself 
aside.  You  wrere  sent  here  on  a  mission— to 
find  out  how  far  Saxonia  had  gone  with  Co 
lombia.  As  it  will  not  do  for  us  to  be  seen 
talking  together,  you  will  tell  me  what  you 
know  briefly."  He  slipped  a  seal  ring  from 
his  pocket  with  the  secret  monogram  of  the 
service  on  it.  "You  understand  that?" 

Madison  stared  at  the  ring,  recognizing  it 
and  realizing  that  this  man  was  on  the  same 
errand  as  himself.  A  sudden  fear  took  pos 
session  of  him. 


42 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC   AGENT 

"How  far  has  Saxonia  gone?"  queried 
the  owner  of  the  ring. 

The  younger  man  laughed  uneasily.  "Oh, 
that's  all  poppycock,  you  know,"  he  said, 
with  a  poor  imitation  of  carelessness. 
"Gone?  Why,  she  hasn't  gone  at  all— not 
at  all." 

"Then,  why  is  von  Ladenburg— their 
cleverest  secret  agent — here? "asked  the  dis 
guised  American,  dryly.  "Do  you  imagine 
he  has  come  to  this  filthy  mudhole  for  his 
health?" 

Madison's  reply  was  incoherent. 

"And,  also,  why  is  Bertha  Freyhold,  alias 
Renee  de  Montpensier,  alias  several  other 
things,  and  now  posing  as  Ysabela  de  Ta- 
vera,  here?  Eh?" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  cried 
Madison,  turning  on  him  fiercely. 

"I  mean  she  is  one  of  the  most  to-be- 
feared  secret  agents  in  the  employ  of  Sax 
onia.  That's  what  I  mean.  The  fact  that 
she  and  von  Ladenburg  are  here  at  the 
same  time  means  that  some  unusually  large 


43 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

piece  of  deviltry  is  about  to  be  carried  out." 

"I  don't  know  who  you  are,"  cried  Madi 
son  angrily.  "But  if  you  dare  to  insinuate 
anything  against  the  character  of  Donai 
Ysabela " 

"You'll  make  an  ass  of  yourself,"  fin 
ished  the  insinuator.  "Yes,  I  have  no  doubt 
of  it.  That's  the  reason  I  warned  you;  for 
that  is  where  the  leak  is " 

With  a  sudden  cry,  Madison  swung  his 
left  arm  toward  von  Wolfgang.  The  blow 
would  have  been  a  savage  one  had  it  reached 
the  spot  for  which  it  was  intended ;  but  the 
one  aimed  at  merely  stepped  aside  and  the 
next  instant  Madison's  wrists  were  held  in  a 
vise-like  grip. 

"Madison,  you  are  a  fool,"  drawled  the 
supposed  von  Wolfgang,  placidly.  "Why 
the  secretary  ever  sent  you  here  is  a  mystery 
to  me.  You  are  a  drawing-room  diplomat." 
He  released  the  now  thoroughly  ashamed 
Madison.  "Go  back  to  your  hotel,  and  try 
to  realize  what  a  howling  young  idiot  you 
are.  And  keep  clear  of  car  a  mia  Ysabela." 

4A 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC   AGENT 

The  speaker  laughed  one  of  his  short,  dry 
laughs,  as  Madison  broke  away  and  began 
to  walk  hastily  down  the  road,  his  shoulders 
heaving  with  wrath.  Presently,  however, 
the  look  of  amusement  faded  from  the  sup 
posed  German's  face,  to  be  replaced  by  one 
of  real  concern. 

"A  damnably  clever  woman  with  alluring 
eyes  and  a  coaxing  mouth,  allied  with  the 
craftiest  man  in  the  whole  Saxonian  service 
—that's  one  side,"  he  muttered;  "on  the 
other  side,  a  hot-headed  young  fool 
enamored  of  the  coaxing  mouth,  and  blab 
bing  secrets  galore,  and— 

He  laughed  again  and  lighted  a  cigarette. 
"The  strength  seems  to  lie  in  the  'and,' 
Yorke  Norroy,"  he  said,  addressing  him 
self. 


'45 


CHAPTER  IV. 

YOREE  NORROY  SEES  THE  REMEDY. 

"I  will  not  talk  of  the  subject,  senor,  to 
any  save  the  accredited  representative  of 
Saxonia"— such  was  the  ultimatum  of  the 
minister  of  the  foreign  office  to  Herr  Hilde- 
brand  von  Wolfgang. 

"But  you  do  not  understand,  general," 
said  the  disguised  Baltimorean.  "The  let 
ter  which  I  have  shown  you  clearly  proves 
my  identity.  I  am  an  agent  of  the  German 
foreign  office,  as  my  letter  states.  I  am  here 
to  act  as  a  check  on  any  measure  which  may 
appear  too  drastic.  Above  all,  I  was  warned 
not  to  allow  Count  Ladenburg  to  know  my 
real  identity." 

"Senor,  I  cannot  discuss  the  matter  with 
you."  General  Eugenio  de  Esperasi  rose. 
The  interview  was  clearly  at  an  end.  Yorke 
Norroy  took  his  wide-brimmed  Panama  and 
walked  out  of  the  room. 

46 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

As  he  stood  on  the  steps  of  the  building, 
engaged  in  rolling  a  cigarette,  he  reflected 
with  much  bitterness  on  this  decisive  ending 
of  the  hopes  of  a  week.  For  that  time  had 
he  spent  in  Bogota  since  his  arrival— in 
filthy,  dirty  Bogota— and  this  was  his  re 
ward. 

He  moved  aside  to  permit  the  entrance  of 
other  visitors,  and  stepped  into  the  shade  of 
two  cocoanut  palms  which  grew  about  the 
archway.  Here,  too,  was  a  split  bamboo 
stool ;  evidently  this  was  the  place  to  which 
watchmen  withdrew  in  the  heat  of  the  day. 

He  sat  down,  brushed  the  tobacco  from 
his  white  linen  clothes,  and  lighted  the  cig 
arette  he  had  just  rolled.  His  active  brain 
smarting  under  defeat  began  to  plan  ways 
and  means. 

The  only  encouraging  thing  that  had  hap 
pened  was  Ysabela  de  Tavera's  marked  pref 
erence  for  his  over  all  other  society.  Strive 
as  he  might,  he  could  not  avoid  the  woman. 
He  met  her  everywhere,  and  her  eyes  always 
had  in  them  that  languishing  look  which 


47 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC   AGENT 

bade  him  tell  her  tender  nothings.  But  he 
had  no  tendency  in  that  direction,  and  could 
see  no  chance  of  her  being  useful  to  him,  so 
he  had  gone  out  of  his  way  to  avoid  meeting 
her.  On  the  other  hand,  young  Hartley 
Madison,  madly  in  pursuit  of  the  erratic  lit 
tle  god,  had  evidently  found  her  a  trifle  less 
responsive  since  Hildebrand  von  Wolfgang 
had  appeared  on  the  scene. 

Norroy  arose  and  walked  slowly  out  into 
the  plaza,  past  the  chattering  hucksters  and 
venders  and  into  the  little  park  where  stood 
the  statue  of  Bolivar.  It  was  a  pretty  place, 
and  a  secluded  one  at  that  time  of  day  if  one 
passed  the  outskirts  and  went  near  the 
statue  itself.  Here,  in  the  shadow  of  the 
palms,  he  sat  gazing  at  the  statue  of  the 
South  American  patriot  without  any  ap 
parent  admiration. 

"It  is  absolutely  disgusting,"  so  ran  his 
thoughts.  "A  whole  week!  I  have  spent  a 
thousand  pesos  on  the  clerks  and  minor  of 
ficials  of  the  war  office.  The  swine!  they 
know  nothing.  They  would  sell  it  readily 

48 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

enough  if  they  did.  Then  to  approach  Es- 
perasi  with  the  finesse  and  skill  that  I  used, 
and  to  find  the  old  beggar  fully  cognizant  of 
what  I  wanted  from  the  first,  and  then  call 
ing  my  game.  What's  left?  Von  Laden- 
burg  1"  His  eyes  took  on  an  amused  light. 
"As  well  try  to  beat  the  devil  at  pulling  souls 
into  Hades!  I'm  sorry  for  that  little  chap, 
Madison.  He  is  a  fool,  but  even  a  sensible 
man  has  a  hard  game  at  this." 

As  he  raised  his  head  and  found  himself 
looking  into  the  eyes  of  Ysabela  de  Tavera, 
he  was  glad  he  had  not  done  his  thinking 
aloud. 

"  Strange,  solitary  senor,"  she  said,  play 
fully.  ifcNo,  I  pray  you,  do  not  rise.  I  am  to 
sit  down.  I  have  a  joke  to  tell  you.  It  is 
funny.  You  will  laugh." 

She  was  in  a  riding  habit  of  yellow  pon 
gee,  with  a  turban  of  Panama  straw, 
adorned  with  rosettes,  set  at  a  coquettish  an 
gle  on  her  dark  brown  ringlets.  Her  habit 
disclosed  a  tiny,  high-heeled  riding  boot, 
strapped  and  spurred,  the  little  foot  within 

49 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

tapping  on  the  graveled  walk.  She  was  un 
doubtedly  charming.  Norroy  could  not  but 
admit  it. 

4 'The  joke  is  funny,  but  it  will  wait.  First 
tell  me,  naughty  senor,  why  you  have  not 
come  to  my  casa  to  drink  of  my  wine,  and  to 
tell  me  where  I  have  before  seen  you."  It 
was  evident  that  her  Spanish  was  not  of 
Castile.  But  in  South  America  this  is  not 
noticeable. 

"I?  Oh,  you  see,  Dona  Ysabela,  I  am  not 
what  they  call  a  ' ladies'  man.'  When  I 
came  to  Bogota,  it  was  but  with  the  inten 
tion  of  remaining  a  week,  and  pushing  on. 
In  that  week  it  was  necessary  to  accomplish 
many  things.  Had  I  known  or  expected  that 
I  should  meet  here  so  charming  a  lady  as 
yourself,  I  should  not  have  so  limited  my 
time." 

"Ah,  you  speak  so  prettily— yes,  when  I 
find  you.  But  it  is  not  you  who  come  to  me 
to  say  these  pretty  things.  I  come  to  you, 
and  then  you  say  them.  Ah,  senor!"  She 
shook  her  riding  crop  at  him  accusingly. 

50 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"You  wrong  me,  dona,  and  you  are  not 
fair  to  yourself.  You  are  out  of  place  here. 
You  should  be  in  Paris  or  in  Berlin,  where 
there  are  men  who  have  the  time  to  do  you 
the  homage  which  you  deserve.  Here  among 
busy  diplomatists,  anaemic  revolutionists 
andjravelers  such  as  myself,  no  one  has  the 

proper  time  to  bestow "  He  spoke  the 

last  sentence  standing ;  and  lifted  his  hat  at 
its  completion. 

"Ah,  you  would  go  again!"  she  cried,  in 
accents  of  mock  despair.  * '  Do  not  go !  And, 
besides,  I  have  the  funny  joke  to  tell  you 
which  will  amuse  you."  He  seated  himself, 
suppressing  a  sigh.  His  mind  was  in  hardly 
the  proper  receptive  mood  for  jokes— and 
especially  the  brand  which  was  thought  hu 
morous  by  women. 

"You  know  Don  Eugenio,  the  general— as 
he  calls  himself  ?  General!  Pfugh!"  Her 
pretty  nose  was  elevated  in  a  sniff.  "He  is 
always  full  of  much  mystery —and,  oh,  so 
important  he  is!  Now,  to-day— but  a  few 
minutes  ago— I  saw  you  go  behind  two  little 


51 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

palm  trees  near  the  palacio,  and  as  my  horse 
was  having  new  shoes  put  on  him,  I  walk 
over  to  the  little  palm  trees.  But  when  I 
come  you  are  gone.  So,  says  I,  this  is  one 
nice,  quiet  place  where  no  one  may  see,  and 
a  comfortable  little  stool,  so  here  I  will  sit 
and  smoke  my  little  cigarette.  So  I  open 
this  little  case"— she  touched  a  tiny  silver 
box  suspended  around  her  neck  by  a  chain— 
"I  take  out  this  box  and  I  smoke.  Then 
comes  Senor  Hermano— I  cannot  call  his 
surname,  it  is  too  hard— and  he  is  going  in, 
and  along  comes  the  great  General  Eugenio, 
and  he  is  going  out.  The  great  general  stop 
Senor  Laden— Senor  Hermano— and  draw 
him  very  near  where  I  sit. 

"  'You  know  the  Senor  von  Woofgan'?' 
he  say  to  Senor  Hermano. 

"  'Si,  general.' 

"  '  To-day  he  come  to  me  and  ask  me  about 
many  things  he  should  not  know— say  he  be 
long  to  foreign  office,  the  same  as  do  you.' 

"Then  Senor  Hermano  wrinkle  his  brow. 
*I  must  find  out,'  says  he,  very  stern.  'I 

52 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

must  cable  to  the  foreign  office.'  And  with 
that  he  go  immediately  to  find  out  whether 
or  not  you  be  a  spy."  She  laughed  merrily. 
"It  is  so  funny.  That  you  should  be  a  spy 
—you,  the  traveler  and  the  man  who  wears 
the  little  eyeglass.  It  is  so  funny."  She  be 
gan  to  laugh  again.  It  was  quite  evident 
that  she  told  the  story  in  good  faith,  and  that 
the  idea  that  Herr  Hildebrand  von  Wolf 
gang  was  a  spy  was  amusing  to  her. 

The  supposed  gentleman  of  Arendorf 
joined  in  her  mirth,  and  she  continued': 

"  Eugenio,  he  is  so  foolish— so  foolish. 
You  go  ask  him  one  or  two  little  questions— 
he  thinks  you  are  a  spy. ' '  Her  teeth  showed 
amiably. 

Norroy  smiled,  too,  but  his  amusement 
was  derived  from  a  different  source  than 
was  hers.  That  this  astute  woman  of  the 
world,  playing  the  innocent  so  kittenishly, 
should  be  deceived  into  thinking  the 
matter  a  joke,  was  the  point  that 
tickled  his  risibilities. 

"And  now,  senor,"— it  was  she  who  arose 


53 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

this  time— " when  do  you  come  to  my  casat" 

He  reflected;  after  all,  something  might 

be  gained  from  her.    It  would  do  no  harm 

to  try.    " To-night,"  he  replied,  briefly. 

"  To-night  "—she  hesitated  for  a  moment 

«T » 

"  Another  night,  then.  You  entertain 
some  one  else  to-night  I" 

She  tossed  her  head.  "It  is  only  that 
foolish  boy,  Senor  Madison;  he  is  to  dine 
with  me.  He  is  so  insistent  that  I  cannot  re 
fuse  him.  But  I  can  be  rid  of  him  by  eight 
o'clock." 

"At  eight,  then.    Adios,  Dona  Ysabela." 

"Adios,"  she  said  prettily,  and  went  out 
to  meet  her  servant,  who  was  advancing 
with  the  horse. 

Norroy  seated  himself  again.  Here  in 
deed  was  room  for  thought.  Hartley  Madi 
son  had  that  morning  received  important 
dispatches  from  the  state  department.  Nor- 
roy  had  recognized  the  seals  when  he  stood 
by  his  young  confrere  in  the  post  office.  He 
was  to  dine  with  her  to-night.  Assuredly 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

ithen,  whatever  lie  knew  would  be  wormed 
out  of  him  during  that  time. 

And  so  von  Ladenburg  had  telegraphed 
to  the  foreign  office  for  information  concern 
ing  von  Wolfgang!  Norroy  smiled  grimly. 
Here  indeed  was  the  thing  which  he  had 
most  hoped  for,  and  perhaps  the  thing  which 
would  deliver  his  enemy  into  his  hands. 

He  walked  swiftly  to  his  hotel,  and  from 
an  inner  compartment  of  his  steamer  trunk 
took  out  a  padlocked  iron  box.  From  this 
he  extracted  a  sheaf  of  mimeographed 
leaves,  bound  together  with  red  tape— the 
secret  code  of  the  Saxonian  foreign  office, 
which  had  taken  him  three  months  and  some 
few  thousand  dollars  to  procure,  a  year  be 
fore.  He  was  quite  aware  of  the  fact  that 
von  Ladenburg  had  not  intrusted  his  query 
to  the  wire  in  anything  save  code  words. 
Norroy  placed  the  sheets  in  the  inner  pocket 
of  his  coat,  buttoned  it  up,  and,  hailing  a 
carromata,  was  driven  to  the  telegrafio. 

Norroy  had  taken  the  precaution  to  bring 
with  him  a  number  of  double  eagles,  and 

55 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

after  the  course  of  a  few  moments'  private 
conversation  with  the  slink-eyed  cable  clerk, 
two  of  these  found  their  way  into  the  latter's 
pocket,  and  Norroy  was  given  a  yellow 
slip  bearing  a  number  of  unfamiliar  Ger 
man  words,  the  only  ones  recognizable  be 
ing  his  own  name  and  the  signature  "La 
den."  He  placed  the  file  copy  of  the  cable 
on  the  desk,  and  took  out  the  code  book.  Af 
ter  half  an  hour's  steady  search,  he  finally 
made  the  message  read : 

Wittschaeft,  Arendorf:  Man  claiming  to  be  Hildebrand 
von  Wolfgang,  agent  Arendorf  office,  here.  Is  claim 
correct?  I  suspect  him.  Answer  immediately. 

Laden. 

Norroy  touched  the  bell  at  his  side,  and 
the  clerk  entered.  "Give  me  a  receiving 
blank,"  he  said.  The  clerk  handed  him  a 
pad  of  them,  and  after  carefully  culling  a 
number  of  words  from  the  book,  he  concoct 
ed  another  message,  supposititiously  an  an 
swer  to  von  Ladenburg's  query  regarding 
him: 

Ladenburg,  Bogota:  Von  Wolfgang  authorized  look 
into  Central  Colombian  matters.  Does  not  supersede  you 
in  Bogota.  Consult  with  him.  Wittschaeft. 

56 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC   AGENT 

He  rang  the  bell  again  and  addressed  the 
yellow-skinned  clerk. 

"There  will  be  an  answer  to  this  cable 
gram,"  he  said,  slowly.  "It  will  be  ad 
dressed  to  Senor  von  Ladenburg,  and  will 
be  signed  Wittschaeft." 

"  Si,  senor,"  agreed  the  clerk. 

"When  it  comes,  you  will  deliver  it  not  to 
Senor  von  Ladenburg,  but  to  me.  When  it 
is  delivered,  I  will  pay  you :  He  men 
tioned  a  sum  large  enough  to  tempt  the  Co 
lombian. 

"But  the  senor  will  expect  an  answer?" 
asked  the  clerk,  indecisively. 

"Quite  so.  You  will  take  this  message." 
He  handed  him  the  one  he  had  just  written. 

"You  will  copy  it  on  another  receiving 
blank.  When  the  answer  arrives  for  Senor 
von  Ladenburg,  you  will  send  him  the  mes 
sage  you  have  copied— this  message.  Sabe6*" 

"Si,  senor,"  said  the  clerk,  joyfully,  as  he 
saw  a  way  to  gain  the  promised  pesos  with 
out  incurring  any  trouble  for  himself. 

"Eemember,"  warned  Norroy,  solemnly, 

57 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"if  you  do  not  do  this  thing  exactly  as  I 
tell  you,  the  money  will  be  lost  to  you,  and, 
besides,  I  will  inform  of  you  having  allowed 
me  to  read  a  filed  message.  So  be  careful, 
Gonzalez,  be  careful." 

4 '  It  will  be  done  exactly  as  the  senor  says, ' ' 
asserted  the  clerk,  with  fervor.  "I,  myself, 
will  deliver  to  him  the  message  as  I  receive 
it." 

Norroy  was  perfectly  sure  that  he  would. 
He  had  been  careful  to  make  the  bribe  large 
enough.  It  was  not  probable  that  Pedro 
Gonzalez,  with  his  seventy  pesos  a  month, 
would  take  any  chances  of  losing  more  than 
he  could  earn  in  half  a  year  at  the  telegrafi-o. 

Seated  in  the  patio  of  the  hotel,  sipping 
his  brandy  and  soda,  Yorke  Norroy  looked 
on  the  world  more  cheerfully  than  he  had  for 
a  week  past.  Things  seemed  to  be  more  fa 
vorable  to  his  success  than  he  had  anticipat 
ed. 

For  the  past  six  days  he  had  haunted  the 
telegraph  room,  hoping  that  von  Laden- 
burg  would  send  something  to  his  office 


58 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC   AGENT 

which  would  yield  him  information ;  hoping 
that  he  would  send  a  wire  regarding  him 
self  ;  but  up  to  now  von  Ladenburg  had  sent 
nothing.  Now  he  would  receive  the  answer 
which  Norroy  had  concocted,  and,  unless  he 
had  formed  a  false  estimate  of  the  man,  he 
would  find  it  necessary  to  consult  with  him 
as  directed  by  the  telegram. 

Once  Norroy  could  induce  him  to  talk  on 
the  question,  the  American's  knowledge  of 
men  and  affairs  at  Arendorf  would  put  all 
doubts  to  flight  in  the  German's  mind. 

Norroy  was  nearly  sure  that  a  secret 
agreement  was  being,  or  had  been  drawn  up 
between  Colombia  and  Saxonia ;  that  the  deal 
had  not  yet  been  quite  consummated  was 
perfectly  evident  by  the  fact  that  both  von 
Ladenburg  and  Ysabela  still  remained  in 
Bogota.  Such  an  agreement  would  neces 
sarily  have  to  be  signed  by  the  heads  of  both 
countries,  and  would  be  carried  only  by 
trusted  persons.  There  would  be  no  chance 
of  its  being  consigned  to  the  mails,  therefore 
one  of  the  two  secret  agents  of  Saxonia  must 

59 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

perforce  leave  Bogota  and  carry  the  paper 
to  Arendorf .  If  von  Ladenburg  would  only 
talk,  something  might  be  done ;  but  to  act  on 
pure  theory  was  a  method  of  procedure 
liked  by  neither  Norroy  nor  the  government 
which  employed  him. 

After  he  left  the  telegraph  office,  Norroy 
had  found  that  von  Ladenburg  was  in  con 
sultation  with  the  presidente  and  General 
Don  de  Esperasi.  A  later  visit  to  the  palacio 
had  revealed  the  fact  that  they  were  still 
there.  It  was  now  six  o  'clock.  Von  Laden 
burg  had  been  at  the  palace  since  one.  Sure 
ly  that  betokened  that  something  unusual 
was  on  hand.  Ease-loving  South  Americans 
dislike  to  spend  five  hours  at  a  time  in  an 
office. 

A  servant  touched  Norroy  on  the  shoulder, 
and  informed  him  that  another  senor  await 
ed  him  in  the  reading  room.  Norroy  arose 
and  went  to  the  apartment  indicated  where 
he  found  Pedro  Gonzalez.  There  were  no 
other  people  in  the  room,  so  the  Colombian, 
after  looking  stealthily  around,  thrust  an 


60 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

envelope  into  the  supposed  German's  hand, 
and  received  in  exchange  the  sum  that  had 
been  promised  him. 

*  '  Senor  Ladenburg, ' '  whispered  Gonzalez ; 
"he  have  sent  to  me  for  the  answer.  He  is 
noAV  at  the  palacio.  To  him  I  send  the  an 
swer  which  you,  senor,  write  in  my  office. 
Buenot" 

"Muy  loueno"  agreed  Norroy,  as  he  added 
another  coin  to  the  ones  in  the  hand  of  the 
unscrupulous  clerk.  ' '  Not  a  word  about  this 
to  anyone,  Gonzalez,"  he  added  sternly. 

The  clerk  showed  his  yellow  teeth  in  a 
grin.  " Perhaps  I  lose  my  place,  I  tell; 
perhaps  I  get  knife  stick  in  back.  Quien 
sabel  No  fear,  senor.  Adios." 

He  departed  by  the  back  entrance  as  he 
had  come,  and  Norroy  betook  himself  to  his 
room  to  translate  the  message  he  had  re 
ceived.  When  he  finished  his  task,  his  look 
was  one  of  relieved  amusement. 

" Lucky  that  didn't  reach  my  German 
confrere,"  he  muttered,  and  indeed  it  was. 
The  message  denied  all  knowledge  of  von 

61 


NORROY,    DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Wolfgang,  and  advised  von  Ladenburg  to 
probe  carefully  into  the  matter  and  discover 
who  he  was.  It  was  also  added,  suggestive 
ly:  "Yorke  Norroy,  American  secret  agent, 
disappeared  from  Washington  a  month  ago. 
You  know  his  aptitude  for  languages  and 
disguises. " 

Norroy 's  watch  revealed  the  fact  that  it 
was  now  approaching  seven  o  'clock.  As  the 
Casa  de  Tavera  was  some  miles  from  the 
hotel  and  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  he 
began  to  change  his  linen  clothes  for  others 
adapted  to  riding.  Just  as  he  pulled  on  his 
high-heeled,  patent-leather  riding  boots, 
there  came  a  knock  on  the  door,  and  one  of 
the  barefooted  muchachos  informed  him 
that  the  Senor  von  Ladenburg  desired  to  see 
him. 

Norroy  smiled  anticipatingly,  and  bade 
the  boy  admit  him.  A  moment  later  the 
heavy  frame  of  the  Saxonian  stood  in  the 
doorway. 

"Come  in,  my  friend,1'  said  Norroy, 
pleasantly. 

62 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN  WHICH  SOMETHING  IS  LEARNED  OF  AN 
AGREEMENT. 

Von  Ladenburg  seated  himself  near  the 
window,  and  accepted  the  cigar  which  Nor- 
roy  offered  him.  The  American  excused 
himself  for  his  negligee. 

"I  am  to  visit  the  Dona  Ysabela  to-night 
at  eight, "  he  informed  the  German,  "and  I 
was  making  ready.  I  have  not  yet  dined,  so 
I  will,  with  your  permission,  dine  here,  and 
I  hope  that  you  will  join  me." 

"Nor  have  I  dined,"  said  the  Saxonian. 
"And  to  dine  with  you,  I  will  be  pleased." 

Both  spoke  in  German,  as  befitted  two 
sons  of  the  Vaterland  in  a  strange  land.  Von 
Ladenburg  seemed  to  be  in  a  genial  mood. 

"I  have  been  at  work  this  day,"  he  said, 
mopping  his  brow. 

"Ah!"  said  Norroy,  politely. 

The  German  lowered  his  voice  and  whis 
pered  the  password  of  the  Saxonian  foreign 

63 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC   AGENT 

office.  Norroy  gave  the  answer,  another 
item  culled  from  the  code  book.  The  Sax- 
onian  held  out  his  hand,  and  Norroy  grasped 
it. 

"Why  did  you  not  tell  me  before?"  said 
von  Ladenburg,  reproachfully.  "I  have 
suspected  you  of  being"  —he  burst  into  up 
roarious  laughter,  but  finally  choked  out— 
"an  enemy  to  Saxonia.  This  day  I  have 
wired  to  Wittschaef t,  and  now  I  know  I  am 
in  the  presence  of  a  brother."  He  looked  at 
Norroy  admiringly.  ",You  are  clever,  Wolf 
gang,  clever— and  secretive.  That  is  what 
we  need ;  but  you  should  have  informed  me. 
I  might  have  aided  you." 

"My  orders  were  otherwise,"  said  Norroy 
calmly.  "  Wittschaef  t  believed  that  two  men 
working  along  different  lines  would  help 
each  other  more  if  one  was  unaware  of  the 
existence  of  the  other.  So  you  see,  he  was 
right.  To-day  has  proved  it." 

"To-day?  What  do  you  mean?"  asked 
von  Ladenburg,  stolidly. 

"Am  I  blind?  To-day  you  persuaded  the 

64 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC   AGENT 

president e  to  the  final  end.    Am  I  right  ?" 

The  German  eyed  him  impassively. 

"I  do  not  seek  information  on  the  sub 
ject,"  said  the  supposed  von  Wolfgang,  as 
he  gave  the  order  for  dinner  to  the  boy  who 
answered  his  ring.  "It  is  enough  for  me  to 
know  that  the  affair  is  now  at  an  end." 

He  glanced  at  the  Saxonian,  who  still 
puffed  placidly  at  his  cigar. 

"There  is,  of  course,  but  one  thing  now  to 
do— that  is  to  convey  the  document  to  Aren- 
dorf .  For  you  to  leave  now  would  not  be 
wise." 

"Why?"  demanded  von  Ladenburg, 
roused  out  of  his  almost  dormant  state. 

"Why?"  There  was  much  scorn  on  the 
face  of  the  disguised  American.  "Why? 
Can  you,  the  man  who  engineered  the 
Caracas  affair,  who  succeeded  in  Alsace 
when  others  failed,  who  created  the  last 
trouble  in  the  Balkans,  ask  why?" 

Von  Ladenburg 's  face  showed  that  he  was 
impressed,  but  he  said  nothing.  Norroy  con 
tinued  : 

65 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"  There  is  a  man  here  named  Madison  who 
you  told  me  was  a  mine  owner,  but  who  I 
have  discovered  is  an  agent  of  the  United 
States.'5 

"He  is  a  fool,"  put  in  the  Saxonian. 

"Quite  so.  He  is  a  fool,  and  Bertha  Frey- 
hold  has  used  him  to  advantage." 

"Bertha  Freyhold!"  Von  Ladenburg 
started  to  his  feet.  "So  you  know  that,  too ! ' ' 

The  supposed  von  Wolfgang  eyed  him  al 
most  pityingly.  "Know  that?  Do  you 
think  me  a  fool,  too?  As  I  say,  Bertha  is 
clever,  and  she  has  used  him.  But  although 
he  is  an  easy  tool,  he  has  sense  enough  to 
realize  the  purpose  that  brought  you  to  Bo 
gota.  He  also  must  know  that  you  would 
not  leave  until  that  purpose  was  accom 
plished.  Is  it  not  so?" 

The  expression  on  von  Ladenburg 's  face 
showed  that  the  idea  was  new  to  him,  and 
also  that  it  was  one  worth  considering.  He 
toyed  with  the  food  which  had  been  placed 
before  them. 

"Who,  then,  is  there  to  send?"  he  asked. 

66 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Who?  Why,  Bertha,  naturally.  Her 
usefulness  here  is  finished.  The  object  of 
your  trip  is  consummated.  What,  then,  is 
the  need  of  knowing  further  regarding  the 
United  States?  The  main  thing  is  to  keep 
them  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  the  agreement 
has  been  signed ;  for  you  to  remain  in  Bogo 
ta;  to  continue  to  make  daily  visits  to  the 
palacio;  to  lead  this  young  American  on  and 
allow  him  to  imagine  that  you  have  not  suc 
ceeded  and  have  no  immediate  chance  of  so 
doing.  What  would  happen  if  the  United 
States  were  to  know  now  that  this  agreement 
had  been  signed?" 

The  Saxonian  did  not  answer  him.  Nbr- 
roy  's  voice  took  on  a  sneering,  mocking  tone : 

"And  you  are  the  man  whom  Wittschaeft 
regards  as  his  right  arm !  You  are  the  man 
who  is  considered  the  best  of  all  the  secret 
agents  of  Saxonia,  and  you  do  not  realize 
your  danger." 

The  sneer  had  its  effect.  Von  Ladenburg 
was  stung  into  replying:  "Know?  Nat 
urally  I  know,  but  I  do  not  care  to  discuss 

67 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

such  matters  where  there  may  be  listeners." 
He  sunk  his  voice.  "The  United  States  is 
ready  any  minute  to  create  a  revolution  in 
Panama,  and  support  the  revolutionists. 
This  she  would  do  now  if  she  realized  what 
was  done  to-day." 

"  Exactly.  And  you  would  leave  Bogo 
ta!"  The  mocking  tone  was  still  effective. 

"You  are  mistaken.  I  had  intended  this 
night  to  give  the  paper  to  Bertha.  She  has 
to-night  at  her  house  this  young^  American. 
To-day  he  received  dispatches  from  his  state 
department."  His  voice  sank  to  the  lowest 
possible  hearing  tone.  ' '  You  realize  we  must 
know  what  are  in  those  dispatches." 

"Naturally."  Norroy  paused  in  the  act 
of  eating  his  salad.  "Naturally.  But  with 
that  ends  Bertha's  usefulness  here,  does  it 
not?" 

"You  are  right,"  murmured  the  Saxon- 
ian.  The  boy  brought  them  the  coffee,  and 
disappeared. 

Von  Ladenburg  looked  at  Norroy  with  a 
puzzled  expression.  "I  do  not  understand 

68 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

why  iWittschaef  t  has  never  spoken  of  you  be 
fore.  You  seem  to  know  all  that  I  do ;  you 
are  fertile  of  resource " 

"I  am  related  to  the  crown,"  answered 
Norroy;  "my  name  is  not  von  Wolfgang, 
but  one  that  you  know  quite  well  at  court. 
Naturally,  it  is  necessary  to  keep  my  connec 
tion  with  the  foreign  office  a  secret,  even 
from  its  most  trusted  agents."  Norroy  had 
known  that  von  Ladenburg  would  eventual 
ly  ask  this  question,  and,  always  prepared, 
he  had  concocted  this  explanation  as  the 
easiest  told  and  most  plausible  one.  Von 
Ladenburg  looked  satisfied,  and  his  manner 
became  suddenly  tinged  with  respect.  The 
feudal  system  is  still  strong  in  Saxonia. 

Norroy  arose  and  took  his  hat  and  riding 
crop.  "I  am  going  now  to  see  Bertha.  Not 
officially,  Ladenburg."  He  smiled  to  give 
the  words  the  desired  meaning.  Von  Laden 
burg  smiled,  too,  almost  deferentially.  Al 
though  he  was  a  noble  by  birth,  and  an  of 
ficial  high  in  the  service  of  Saxonia,  he  knew 
when  he  had  met  his  superior  in  intelligence, 

69 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

and  when  that  fact  was  added  to  the  con 
fession  of  birth,  it  made  his  companion  a 
man  with  whom  it  was  worth  keeping  on  the 
best  of  terms.  Nevertheless,  his  naturally 
secretive  nature  and  long  training  kept  him 
from  informing  Norroy  any  further  on  the 
subject  than  he  already  knew. 

"  It  is  probable  that  she  has  sent  the 
American  away  by  now,"  remarked  Nor- 
roy,  as  they  moved  toward  the  courtyard. 
"You  are  riding,  too,  Ladenburg?" 

"Yes;"  then  after  a  moment's  hesitation: 
"I  go,  too,  to  see  Bertha;  but  on  other  busi 
ness  than  that  which  occupies  you.  Tell  me, 
does  she  know  of  your  identity?" 

' '  No, ' '  answered  Norroy .  ' '  I  saw  no  need 
to  tell  her.  Women  should  not  be  trusted 
any  further  than  necessary." 

The  Saxonian  approved  silently.  Every 
sentence  that  Norroy  uttered  raised  him  a 
peg  higher  in  von  Ladenburg's  estimation. 

They  mounted  their  horses,  tossing  a 
peseta  apiece  to  the  stable  boys,  and  rode 
toward  the  Casa  de  Tavera.  As  they  turned 

70 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

into  the  carriageway  and  neared  the  house, 
the  glow  of  two  cigarettes  was  seen  near  the 
veranda. 

"The  two  men  whom  I  hired  to  guard  the 
house,"  explained  the  Saxonian.  "It  is  best 
always  to  have  ruffians  at  hand  who  scruple 
at  nothing." 

The  two  men  advanced  at  von  Laden- 
burg's  whistle.  They  bore  carbines  in  their 
hands.  They  were  directed  to  tie  the  horses 
beneath  the  trees,  and  Norroy  and  his  com 
panion  ascended  to  the  veranda,  the  latter 
touching  the  bell. 

"Dona  Ysabela,"  said  the  Saxonian  to 
the  swarthy  maid  who  answered  the  sum 
mons.  They  entered  the  little  drawing-room, 
and  the  maid  lighted  a  red-shaded  lamp  and 
retired.  A  frou-frou  of  skirts  was  heard, 
and  Dona  Ysabela,  attired  in  a  low-cut  gown 
of  pale  violet,  with  a  knot  of  violets  at  her 
breast,  entered  the  room. 

"Ah,  Senor  Woofgan',"  she  said,  in  a 
pleased  tone. 

"It  is  better  she  should  know  now,"  whis- 

71 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

pered  von  Ladenburg  to  Norroy.  In  a  few 
sentences  he  told  her  of  the  supposed  iden 
tity  of  von  Wolfgang.  She  turned  to  him 
with  a  look  of  evident  admiration. 

"Ah,  I  knew!"  she -said,  in  playful  tones. 
"I  knew.  Mysterious *one " 

"Just  a  moment,"  interrupted  von  La 
denburg,  drawing  her  aside,  and  speaking  in 
a  low  tone,  although  it  was  perfectly  audi 
ble  to  Norroy.  "Here  is  the  agreement  at 
last.  Take  it.  You  must  start  for  Aren- 
dorf  to-morrow.  What  have  you  learned 
from  the  young  American'?" 

' '  Nothing, ' '  she  answered.  "  He  is  not  yet 
sufficiently  intoxicated.  In  a  moment  I  will 
bring  him  into  this  room.  He  has  been 
dining  with  me." 

' ;  I  will  return, ' '  said  von  Ladenburg.  He 
turned  to  Norroy.  "I  will  not  interrupt  you 
long  when  I  come  back.  Meanwhile " 

"Meanwhile  if  you  will  but  go  into  my 
little  boudoir  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  Herr 
Wolfgang,"  said  Ysabela,  in  German,  "but 
for  a  half  hour !  Then  I  will  be  at  leisure. 

72 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

You  understand  that  state  affairs  are  al 
ways  before  pleasure."  She  smiled  lan- 
guishingly. 

" Certainly,  Fraulein  Bertha,"  he  agreed. 
"If  you  will  but  show  me  the  way " 

She  thrust  the  paper  which  von  Laden- 
burg  had  given  her  into  the  bodice  of  her 
gown.  "Auf  wiedersehen,  Herman,"  she 
said,  as  he  made  for  the  door,  and  then  led 
the  way  to  the  head  of  the  stairs  and  pointed 
out  to  Norroy  a  little  room  close  by. 

"For  a  very  short  while,"  she  whispered, 
and,  kissing  her  fingers  to  him,  descended. 

The  door  closed  behind  von  Ladenburg. 
Norroy  heard  the  rustle  of  her  skirts  on  the 
stairs,  and,  walking  to  the  balustrade,  he 
saw  her  vanish  into  the  drawing-room.  Im 
mediately  after,  he  caught  the  sound  of  a 
man  walking  unsteadily  along  the  lower 
hall.  "  Ysabela,"  came  the  voice  of  one  who 
seemed  to  be  in  doubt  as  to  his  whereabouts. 

"Madison!"  said  Norroy,  with  convic 
tion.  ' '  And  now ' 

"Si,    Senor   Madison,"   came   the   clear 

73 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

tones  of  the  siren. 

"The  young  fool  is  drunk,"  commented 
Norroy,  mentally.  "Drunk,  in  love  and  in 
the  possession  of  information  which  she 
wants.  What  a  terrible  combination!" 

Making  up  his  mind  instantly,  he  stepped 
noiselessly  out  of  the  room,  tested  the  balus 
trade,  found  it  steady,  and,  smiling  reminis- 
cently  as  he  remembered  his  boyhood  days, 
slid  down  it  without  a  sound.  At  the  foot 
of  the  stairs  he  took  a  rapid  survey  of  the 
situation,  and,  remembering  that  there  was 
another  room  partitioned  off  from  the  little 
drawing-room  by  portieres,  walked  softly 
down  the  hall,  and  carefully  turned  the  knob 
of  the  third  door. 

He  found  himself  in  total  darkness  save 
for  a  tiny  ray  of  light  that  issued  from  an 
opening  in  the  portieres.  Then,  lying  flat 
on  his  stomach,  he  wormed  himself  along 
the  floor  and  slightly  lifted  the  edge  of  one 
of  the  curtains.  He  heard  voices  within. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  UTTER  ROUT  OF  SAXONIA. 

"I  couldn't  wait  any  longer,  Ysabela," 
said  the  young  American,  unevenly,  as  he  sat 
down  on  a  divan.  "I  couldn't  stay  out  there 
when  you  weren't  there,  m'dear."  He  sur 
veyed  her  owlishly,  with  eyes  bedimmed 
with  over-excess  of  wine. 

"And  I  did  not  want  to  leave  you,"  she 
cooed  softly,  as  she  sat  down  beside  him. 
"But  I  had  a  caller  who  wished  to  see  me 
at  once,  and  whom  I  could  not  send  away— 

"Who  was  he?"  asked  Madison,  with  the 
quick  suspicion  of  a  man  in  love. 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment  at  the  direct 
challenge ;  then  her  quick  wits  supplied  the 
answer:  "Senor  Woofgan',"  she  replied. 

Madison  scowled.  "That  man!"  he  said. 
"You  beware  of  that  man,  Ysabela.  He  is 

75 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

not— good  man.  I  know  him— not  good." 
His  accents  were  heavy. 

"What  do  you  mean'?"  she  asked,  quickly. 
But  Madison  was  not  far  enough  gone  to  re 
veal  von  Wolfgang  as  an  American. 

"Bad  man,"  he  said  vaguely.  "Knew 
him  in  Paris.  Devil  with  women." 

She  looked  relieved,  and  the  bearer  of  the 
name  of  Wolfgang,  peeping  out  from  the 
portieres,  had  a  narrow  escape  from  chuck 
ling. 

"It  is  getting  late,  Senor  Madison,"  she 
said  to  the  young  American.  "You  have 
been  here  now  three  hours." 

' '  You  want  me  to  go  ?  "  queried  Madison, 
attempting  to  rise,  but  falling  back  on  the 
divan  again.  "You  want  me  to  go,  then 
you  have  Wolfgang  come  back."  He  looked 
at  her  sorrowfully,  and  shook  his  head. 

"No,  Senor  Madison,"  she  began. 

"You  call  me  Senor  Madison,  too,"  pur 
sued  the  injured  one  in  tones  of  reproach. 
"When  I  ask  you  to  call  me  Hartley —Hart 
ley " 

76 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"I  will  call  you  Har'ley,  then,"  she  said. 
"But  now  you  must  go,  caro  mio." 

"Go!  Go!  Before  I  tell  you  what  I  have 
in  ray  heart  for  so  long.  No !  First  I  will 
tell  you.  I  love  you,  Ysabela."  His  drunk 
enness  fell  away  from  him  like  a  cloak,  and 
his  young  face  lighted  up  with  earnestness. 
"Yes,  I  love  you,  Ysabela."  He  tried  to 
take  her  in  his  arms,  but  she  eluded  him  and 
walked  over  to  the  table,  where  the  rays  of 
the  red-shaded  lamp  shone  upon  her  hair 
and  reflected  back  their  own  color  glorified. 
Even  Norroy,  peeping  out  from  the  por 
tieres,  could  not  deny  that  the  picture  was 
an  alluring  one. 

Madison  advanced,  still  a  trifle  unsteadily, 
with  arms  outstretched.  "I  tell  you  I  love 
you,  Ysabela,"  he  cried,  fervently.  "Yes, 
I  have  loved  you  ever  since  I  first  saw  you 
in  the  patio  at  the  hotel.  I  know  I  am  not 
up  to  much— hardly  worth  anything,  dear 
one,  but  I  have  a  small  income,  large  enough 
for  two,  if  we  were  careful,  and  I  want  you 
to  marry  me.  I'll  shake  this  diplomatic 

77 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

service,  and  we'll  go  to  New  York  to  live." 
In  his  excitement  he  fell  to  talking  English, 
but  she  understood  him,  nevertheless. 
"We'll  take  a  cottage  down  on  Long  Is 
land." 

She  approached  him.  "Ah,  Har'ley,  Har' 
ley  dear,  how  do  I  know  you  mean  what  you 
say?  You  have  tasted  much  wine  this  eve 
ning,  caro  mio." 

"Believe  me.  It  is  that  which  has  given 
me  the  courage  to  tell  you  that  I  love  you!" 
he  cried.  "Before,  I  dared  not.  I  was 
afraid  of  destroying  the  little  heaven  in 
which  I  was  living,  and  plunging  into  hell. 
But  now"— he  drew  closer  to  her— "now 
you  must  not  refuse  me."  His  arms  went 
about  her  neck,  and  his  lips  met  her  full, 
cherry-red  ones.  "Darling!"  he  cried,  rap 
turously. 

Slowly  her  little  hands  crept  to  the  pockets 
of  his  dinner  coat,  deftly  they  extracted  a 
bunch  of  letters,  and  quickly  they  tossed 
them  beneath  the  table,  where  they  lay  un 
noticed  by  any  save  her  and  the  man  who 

78 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

was  watching  behind  the  portieres.  She 
wrenched  herself  free. 

"  You  must  go  now,  carita,"  she  said,  soft 
ly.  "Go,  and  come  again  to-morrow.  Then 
if  you  tell  me  what  you  have  to-night,  you 
shall  have  an  answer.  Go.  See— there  is 
your  cloak." 

As  he  turned  she  stooped,  picked  up  the 
packet  of  letters  and  thrust  them  into  her 
bosom  beside  the  precious  paper  which  von 
Ladenburg  had  intrusted  to  her  care ;  but  so 
quickly  was  it  done  that  she  was  again  fac 
ing  Madison  when  he  turned  for  her  to  as 
sist  him  with  his  cloak. 

It  was  perfectly  evident  that  it  was  dan 
gerous  to  the  successful  accomplishment  of 
Norroy's  plan  for  him  to  remain  longer  in 
his  place  of  vantage.  He  crept  softly  to  the 
door,  pushed  it  open,  and  without  troubling 
to  close  it  again,  made  his  way  to  the  stairs 
and  up  them,  tiptoeing  with  the  greatest  of 
care  and  causing  not  a  single  creak. 

He  regained  the  boudoir  in  safety  and  sat 
down,  his  wits  together,  calm  and  collected, 

79 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

as  was  necessary  when  he  reflected  that  fate 
had  not  only  given  the  enemy  into  his  hands, 
but  made  justifiable  means  which  would 
otherwise  have  appeared  dishonorable.  It 
was  only  with  an  effort  that  he  could  contain 
himself  when  he  realized  how  much  hung  on 
the  next  move  in  the  game. 

He  heard  the  door  close  behind  Madison, 
and  a  whispered  good-night ;  then  the  rust 
ling  of  the  skirts,  and  her  little  hands  were  in 
his  as  she  greeted  him  again. 

"I  told  you  I  would  come  to-night,"  he 
said.  "You  remember— in  the  park?" 

' '  I  remember, ' '  she  answered ;  ' '  but  I 
feared  you  would  forget." 

"Are  you  glad,  then,  that  I  came?"  His 
tones  were  almost  tender. 

There  was  no  doubt  of  the  fact  that  she 
was,  from  the  manner  in  which  she  affirmed. 
She  led  him  out  of  the  boudoir  and  down  to 
the  drawing-room.  For  once  this  woman's 
heart  had  been  touched;  not  seriously,  per 
haps,  but  enough  to  make  her  realize  that 
she  was  a  woman  in  the  presence  of  a  man ; 

80 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

not  a  tool  hired  by  the  government  to  make 
fools  of  the  other  sex. 

"You  come  most  opportunely,  Herr  von 
Wolfgang,"  she  said.  "As  perhaps  the 
Count  von  Ladenburg  has  told  you,  I  leave 
Bogota  to-morrow  and  go  back  to  our  be 
loved  capitol." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  he  answered.  "And  that 
is  why  I  came  to-night.  I  have  been  foolish. 
Fearing  that  you  might  discover  my  iden 
tity,  I  have  remained  away  from  you,  when 
I  would  have  almost  given  up  my  whole 
career  to  have  been  with  you.  Bertha— you 
see  I  know  you"—  he  was  speaking  in  Ger 
man  now— -"this  career  is  not  fit  for  a  wo 
man.  You  should  leave  it.  For  a  man  it  is 
otherwise." 

"I  know,"  she  answered,  with  downcast 
eyes.  "But  a  woman  must  live.  By  her 
wits,  if  need  be.  When  she  has  no  one  to 
care  for  her,  she  sometimes  does  things  she 
does  not  care  to  do.  I  have  no  one  to  care 
what  I  do." 

"No  one  to  care !"  he  echoed,  in  tones  deep 

81 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

with  emotion.    "You  call  me  no  one,  then?" 

"I  am  sorry,"  she  said,  her  eyes  still  seek 
ing  the  floor.  "But  it  may  be  I  misinter 
pret." 

"If  you  do  not  know  that  I  have  decided 
to  try  to  be  near  you  always,  you  misinter 
pret,"  he  said,  bluntly. 

"Can  it  be?"  she  murmured,  looking  at 
him  from  under  her  long  lashes.  "Can  it 
be?" 

"Can  it  be  that  I  want  to  be  near  you? 
Haven't  you  seen  that  I  have  tried  to  avoid 
you  because  I  feared  you  would  come  be 
tween  me  and  my  work  ?  I  have  always  been 
afraid  of  falling  in  love.  I  know  my  na 
ture  too  well.  I  knew  that  when  it  came,  I 
would  cast  all  else  aside." 

"But  you  have  not  fallen  in  love?"  she 
questioned,  her  heart  beating  rapidly. 

"So  much  in  love  that  when  you  leave 
here  to-morrow  I  shall  be  desolate.  All  my 
enthusiasm  for  my  work  has  faded,  now 
I  know  it  will  keep  me  from  you."  As  be 
fore  stated,  Yorke  Norroy  had  made  a  name 

82 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

for  himself  as  an  amateur  actor.  He  was 
putting  all  of  his  art  into  this,  and  his  tones 
rang  true  and  were  full  of  manly  ardor. 

She  looked  at  him,  not  daring  to  trust  her 
self  to  speak.  Down  in  her  heart  the  dor 
mant  feminine  was  aroused.  The  man  truly 
loved  her!  She  looked  at  his  face,  lighted 
up  with  enthusiasm.  Meanwhile  his  active 
brain  was  wondering  whether  he  convinced. 
The  knowledge  of  what  she  had  done  to 
young  Madison  spurred  him  on. 

"You  say  you  go  to-morrow.  Then  I  say, 
before  you  go,  I  want  you  to  marry  me.  I 
cannot  let  you  go  without  knowing  that  you 
are  mine.  My  work  I  am  bound  in  honor  to 
do,  but  I  cannot  lose  my  only  chance  of  hap 
piness  because  of  it—" 

"You  love  me?"  she  murmured,  softly. 
"You  love  me?" 

' '  Yes,  I  love  you. ' '  He  had  taken  her  into 
his  arms.  The  sight  of  her  pretty  face  up 
turned  turned  him  cold  and  bitter  when  he 
reflected  that  had  she  her  own  way  she  would 
have  dishonored  a  youngster  whose  onlj 

83 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

fault  was  his  loving  her.  "  Yes,  I  love  you. " 
The  tones  were  as  cold  as  steel ;  his  hand  was 
plunged  into  her  bodice,  and  he  sprang  back, 
the  treaty  and  the  papers  in  his  hand.  "As 
you  loved  Hartley  Madison,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"For  these."  He  held  the  papers  aloft  for 
a  moment,  then  slipped  them  into  the  inner 
pocket  of  his  coat. 

For  a  moment  the  woman  was  dazed.  The 
whole  thing  had  happened  so  suddenly,  so 
unexpectedly,  so  contrary  to  all  rules,  that 
she  could  hardly  believe  what  she  heard. 
Surely  this  was  some  horrible  phantasm, 
some  unbelievable  hallucination. 

"I  was  behind  those  curtains,"  he  said, 
pointing,  "when  you  stole  the  papers  from 
young  Madison.  And  so  Bertha  Freyhold 
has  let  a  man  make  a  fool  of  her  after  all 
her  triumphs!"  There  was  the  faintest  sus 
picion  of  a  sneer  in  his  tone. 

She  had  recovered  herself  now.  It  was 
real. 

"I  knew  you  from  the  first,  Bertha,"  went 
On  Norroy,  kindly.  "You  favored  me,  but 

84 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

I  did  not  think  it  would  come  to  this.    One 
never  can  tell." 

She  made  a  dart  toward  him.  "Who  are 
you?"  she  cried.  "You  are  Saxonian.  Why 
should  you  seek  to  make  known  our  country's 
plans." 

"Because  I  am  not  Saxonian,  Bertha," 
answered  the  secret  agent.  "I  am  the  agent 
of  another  country,  of  which  you  may  have 
heard— the  United  States."  He  bowed. 
^"You  devil!"  she  cried,  lashing  herself 
into  a  white  heat  of  fury.  "You  devil!" 

The  sound  of  horse's  hoofs  coming  rapid 
ly  up  the  graveled  walk  broke  the  momen 
tary  stillness,  and  the  whistle  of  von  Laden- 
burg  came  to  their  ears.  With  the  litheness 
of  a  tigress,  she  sprang  across  the  room  and 
toward  the  window  opening  to  the  front. 

"Stop!"  commanded  Norroy.  She  turned 
and  faced  the  black  muzzle  of  a  revolver. 
"Don't  move  and  don't  make  a  noise." 

"Shoot!''  she  said,  defiantly.  "Shoot!" 
In  an  instant  she  had  thrown  open  the  win 
dow.  "Help,  Herman,  help!"  she  shouted, 

85 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

in  accents  so  real  that  they  needed  no  addi 
tion.  "Your  revolver!  Help!  Treach 
ery!" 

Norroy's  finger  trembled  on  the  trigger, 
but  his  heart  failed  him.  He  turned  and 
made  for  the  rear  window,  but  before  he 
had  reached  it  she  hurled  herself  upon  him 
with  such  force  that  the  revolver  dropped 
from  his  hand  to  the  floor.  Her  clawing 
fingers  tore  at  his  coat.  By  sheer  strength 
he  cast  her  off  and  threw  open  the  window 
but  she  had  regained  her  hold  in  a  moment. 
He  might  have  struck  her  had  he  chosen,  but 
his  ethics  forbade  him  to  bodily  harm  a  wo 
man.  He  grasped  the  window  ledge  and 
again  almost  tore  off  her  grasp.  At  the  same 
moment,  von  Ladenburg,  revolver  in  hand, 
rushed  into  the  room. 

" Shoot!  Shoot!"  she  cried,  as  she  felt 
Norroy  slipping  from  her.  "He  is  an 
American  spy !  He  has  the  treaty !  Shoot ! ' ' 

Before  the  words  were  half  spoken  Nor- 
roy  leaped  from  the  window,  and  almost  in 
stantly  the  sharp  crack  of  a  revolver  and 

86 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

the  piercing  scream  of  a  woman  rang  out  to 
gether. 

"My  God!  You've  shot  me!"  came  the 
words.  Norroy 's  fingers  still  gripped  the 
outside  of  the  window.  At  the  woman's 
shriek,  he  threw  himself  inward  headlong, 
and  into  the  arms  of  von  Ladenburg.  They 
grappled,  man  to  man,  Norroy 's  right  hand 
catching  the  revolver  and  holding  it  high; 
slowly  his  other,  arm  crept  around  the  Ger 
man's  neck  and  his  left  foot  caught  von 
Ladenburg 's  behind  the  instep.  With  a 
crash  the  German  diplomat  went  down,  Nor- 
roy  on  top  of  him ;  and  the  revolver  was  in 
the  possession  of  the  American.  Quickly  he 
arose  and  stood  over  his  prostrate  foe. 

There  was  a  battering  on  the  door  and  the 
two  soldiers  rushed  in,  with  their  carbines 
upraised.  At  the  sight  of  the  gaunt  figure 
holding  a  revolver  in  each  hand— for  at  the 
sound  of  their  coming  Norroy  had  recovered 
his  own— they  stood  back. 

"Put  down  those  weapons,"  snapped  out 
Norroy  in  Spanish.  "Quickly  now,  you 

87 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

swine.    Go  into  that  room." 

Without  a  word,  they  went  into  a  little 
apartment  opening  at  the  opposite  end  of 
the  one  in  which  the  drama  had  taken  place, 
leaving  their  carbines  behind.  The  key  was 
in  the  lock,  and  Norroy  turned  it.  The  Ger 
man,  slowly  recovering  from  the  shock  of 
his  fall,  looked  up. 

"Bertha!"  he  moaned. 

"Lie  still,"  commanded  Norroy.  He 
moved  to  the  apparently  lifeless  body  of  the 
woman  by  the  window,  and  examined  her. 
Then  he  laughed. 

"The  bullet  grazed  her  arm,"  he  said, 
lightly.  "The  girl's  not  hurt.  She  has 
fainted.  A  little  cold  water  will  revive  her. ' ' 
Still  keeping  an  eye  on  his  enemy,  he  moved 
to  the  locked  door  and  opened  it. 

"Come  out,"  he  said  to  the  soldiers.  They 
re-entered.  "Take  the  cord  from  that  pic 
ture  and  tie  this  caballero  tightly.  Don't 
move,  von  Ladenburg." 

The  soldiers  obeyed  his  orders,  and  La 
denburg,  conscious  of  the  futility  of  resist- 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

ance,  allowed  himself  to  be  trussed  up.  Then 
Norroy  compelled  the  first  soldier  to  tie  the 
second,  and  personally  attended  to  the  ty 
ing  up  of  the  former  himself.  Quickly  he 
bundled  all  three  into  the  inner  room,  and 
stood  in  the  doorway. 

"Tell  me,"  entreated  von  Ladenburg, 
keeping  down  his  rage  and  disappointment 
as  best  he  could,  "what  do  you  hope  to  gain 
by  this?" 

"A  clear  start  to  the  coast  before  Frau- 
lein  Bertha  recovers,"  replied  the  victor. 

Von  Ladenburg 's  language  was  that  of  a 
man  disappointed  in  the  dearest  hope  of 
his  life.  Norroy  listened  amusedly. 

"You— you  cursed  traitor!" 

"No  traitor,"  answered  Norroy,  lightly. 
"Only  a  secret  agent,  a  trifle  cleverer  than 
you,  Ladenburg,  and  in  the  service  of  the 
United  States." 

He  closed  the  door  to  prevent  hearing  any 
more  torrid  language— Yorke  Norroy  dis 
liked  profanity— then  picked  up  the  sense 
less  body  of  the  woman,  placed  it  on  the  di- 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

van,  and  covered  it  over  with  a  portiere 
which  he  pulled  down. 

An  hour  later  Hartley  Madison  had  been 
routed  out  of  bed,  and  Norroy  had  told  him 
as  much  of  the  story  as  he  deemed  necessary. 
Their  luggage  was  hastily  packed,  and  con 
signed  to  the  next  mule  train.  Outside  stood 
two  horses,  saddled  and  waiting  their  pleas 
ure,  and  before  the  clock  struck  nine,  the 
two  horsemen  might  have  been  seen  riding 
rapidly  up  the  goat  path  which  leads  over 
the  mountains  and  to  the  coast. 


90 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SAXONIA  DOES  NOT  BUILD  THE  CANAL. 

In  the  private  library  of  the  President, 
the  secretary  of  state  was  again  conferring 
with  his  chief.  There,  too,  sat  Yorke  Nor- 
roy,  immaculate  as  ever  in  evening  dress, 
and  tatooing  gently  on  the  table  with  mani 
cured  fingers. 

He  had  arrived  in  Washington  just  three 
hours  before,  and  had  not  had  time  to  eat 
his  dinner.  As  it  was  nearing  eight  o'clock, 
and  lunch  had  been  served  at  twelve  on  the 
train,  he  was  beginning  to  experience  the 
pangs  of  hunger,  and  wished  that  the  two 
dignitaries  would  dispense  with  his  valuable 
services  for  the  nonce. 

"As  you  know,  Norroy,"  said  the  secre 
tary,  "your  cablegram  from  Buenaventura 
put  the  wheels  in  motion.  The  revolution 
ists  were  still  urgent,  and  the  would-be  canal 
builders  more  so.  So  we  thought  it  well  to 

91 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

encourage  the  idea  that  it  would  do  no  harm 
to  be  ready.  We  knew  that  you  would  not 
cable  as  you  did  without  cause." 

" Thank  you,"  put  in  Norroy.  He  ex 
tracted  a  cigarette  from  a  box  on  the  table 
and  lit  it.  His  face  was  a  picture  of  bore 
dom. 

"  So  I  understand  that,  acting  on  our  hint, 
they  have  made  ready,  and  are  awaiting  the 
word  to  free  themselves,"  went  on  the  secre 
tary. 

He  turned  to  Norroy,  whose  look  changed 
to  one  of  polite  interest. 

"  And  now  that  we  have  seen  this,"  broke 
in  the  Chief  Executive,  glowering  at  the 
document  which  von  Ladenburg  had  been 
to  so  much  trouble  to  procure — "  now  that 
we  have  seen  this,  it  occurs  to  both  the  secre 
tary  and  myself  that  to  waste  more  time  in 
diplomatic  relations  with  a  country  so  ab 
solutely  unscrupulous  as  Colombia  is  hardly 
fair  to  the  commercial  interests,  not  only  of 
the  United  States,  but  of  the  world." 

"So  the  word  to  begin  the  little  affair  in 

92 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Panama  has  been  given?"  queried  Norroy, 
flicking  away  the  ashes  from  the  bosom  of 
his  spotless  shirt. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  President.  "We  are 
awaiting  the  answer  now." 

In  the  telegraph  room  in  the  west  wing 
of  the  White  House  an  operator  was  busily 
taking  down  on  his  typewriter  various 
things  of  interest  to  the  world  at  large.  He 
had  just  finished  a  telegram  from  San 
Francisco  regarding  smuggling,  when  the 
cable  ticker  began  indications  of.  having  a 
story  to  tell. 

He  tapped  back  that  he  was  ready,  and 
the  message  came:  "Colon,  Republic  of 

Panama "  "Great  guns!  that's  a  new 

one  on  me."  He  adjusted  the  transmitter 
and  queried  the  date  mark.  It  was  repeated, 
with  advice  from  the  Key  West  operator  to 
wait  until  he  heard  the  rest  before  putting 
queries  indicating  ignorance. 

When  the  message  was  completed  the 
operator,  hardly  able  to  credit  it,  asked  to 
have  it  repeated.  But  repetition  was  only 

93 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

confirmation.  Then  the  operator  realized 
that  he  was  in  possession  of  the  first  message 
from  a  new  country.  Quickly  he  aroused  the 
messenger  and  sent  him  flying. 

When  the  envelope  had  been  torn  open, 
the  President  read  its  contents  to  his  two 
auditors : 

Organized  movement  began  to-night.  Colon  guard  ut 
terly  routed  by  revolutionists.  Colon  in  their  hands. 
Flag  of  republic  formally  raised. 

To  this  and  more  following  was  signed 
the  name  of  a  reckless  adventurer  who  had 
been  drilling  prospective  insurgents  for 
some  months  at  the  request  of  a  certain 
gentleman  of  New  York  interested  in  the 
canal. 

The  secretary  looked  at  the  yellow  slip 
solemnly.  "  There  is  no  danger  of  Saxonia 
building  the  canal  now." 

"No,"  said  Norroy,  depositing  his  burnt- 
out  cigarette  in  the  tray.  "But  there  is 
danger  of  my  starving  in  a  few  moments. 
Good-night,  Mr.  President.  Good-night, 
Mr.  Secretary.  I  am  going  to  the  New  Wil- 
lard  and  eat  down  the  bill  of  fare."  The 
secret  door  closed  behind  him. 

94 


A  Tilt  With  The  Muscovite 


CHAPTER  1. 

THE  LETTER  FROM  PARIS. 

No  matter  where  Yorke  Nbrroy  might  go, 
the  messages  sent  by  the  secretary  of  state 
always  followed  him."  They  were  common 
place  enough  in  wording,  were  signed  sim 
ply  with  an  initial,  and  were  sent  through  the 
usual  channels  of  the  Western  Union  office. 
The  boy  assigned  with  the  delivering  of  this 
particular  message  had  followed  Norroy 
from  the  Metropolitan  Club  to  the  secret 
agent's  apartment  on  Connecticut  Avenue, 
and  from  there  had  perforce  to  transport 
his  small  person  to  the  golf  links  at  Chevy 
Chase. 

Norroy  never  lost  time  in  answering  these 
summons,  and  that  was  his  excuse  for  ap- 

95 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

pearing  in  golf  tweeds  and  tan  shoes,  with 
long  loose  coat  and  slouched  hat.  He  T&- 
moved  the  latter  two  articles  of  attire  on  en 
tering  the  secretary's  residence,  and  when 
shown  into  the  private  library,  lighted  one 
of  his  ever-present  cigarettes  with  the  gold 
crest  and  waited  the  new  detail.  He  was 
quite  ready  for  it,  as  two  months  spent  in  en 
forced  idleness  was  quite  enough  for  him  at 
one  time. 

They  shook  hands  on  the  secretary's  en 
trance,  but  the  head  of  the  Department  of 
State  made  no  comment  further  than  to  re 
quest  that  Norroy  read  a  letter,  written  in 
French,  which  he  put  into  his  hand. 

"It's  rather  badly  put  together.  Writer 
isn't  a  Frenchman,"  observed  Norroy,  when 
he  had  glanced  over  it. 

"Translate  it  aloud,"  directed  the  secre 
tary.  "I  have  the  gist  of  it,  but  I  imagine 
your  French  is  better  than  mine." 

To  the  Chief  of  the  Foreign  Office, 

Washington,  United  States  of  America. 
Sir:     If    you    would    know    what    has    become    of    M. 
Leo  G'aylord,  about  whom  your  newspapers  said  so  much 
two  years  ago,  you  can  discover  what  you  wish  to  know 

96 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

by  sending  someone  to  Paris,  and  have  him  write  to  M. 
Anton  Dumercier,  16  Faubourg  St.  Gregoire.  I  cannot 
tell  more  by  mail,  as  I  am  not  authorized  to  do  so.  This 
is  a  most  serious  thing  for  Mr.  Gaylord,  as  he  is  being 
held  a  prisoner  by  an  European  power  for  certain  reasons 
unnecessary  to  explain  to  you. 

When  you  receive  this,  please  telegraph  me  immediately 
when  your  agent  will  be  in  Paris.     With  much  respect, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

Paris,  November  6th.  A.  D. 

"  Translated  out  of  idiomatic  French  into 
idiomatic  English,  that  is  about  the  size  of 
the  letter,"  remarked  Norroy,  as  he  re 
turned  the  paper  to  the  secretary. 

"So  I  thought."  The  secretary  took  from 
the  pocket  of  his  coat  a  number  of  news 
paper  clippings.  "You  had  better  read 
these  at  some  time.  They  will  be  useful  to 
you." 

"I  am  to  go  to  Paris,  then?"  questioned 
the  secret  agent. 

The  secretary  nodded.  "You  know  about 
this  man  Gaylord,  of  course.  Everyone 
does,  thanks  to  the  press.  But  there  are  two 
things  that  for  two  years  you  have  not 
known,  along  with  the  general  public.  The 
first  is :  To  where  did  he  disappear " 

Norroy  flicked  some  ashes  from  his  ciga- 

97 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

rette.  "Pardon  me  if  I  suggest  that  you  al 
so  are  in  the  dark  concerning  that,  Mr.  Sec-r 
retary." 

"That  I  grant  you.  I  am.  But  on  the 
second  point  I  am  fully  informed.  You  are 
well  aware  of  Gaylord's  ability  as  an  inven 
tor,  and  of  the  many  astoundingly  clever  de 
vices  he  placed  on  the  market,  making  a  for 
tune  for  himself  out  of  them.  Now,  for  four 
years  before  his  disappearance  he  had  been 
at  work  on  a  gun— a  rapid-firing  gun— of 
tremendous  power,  which  would  carry  the 
almost  unbelievable  distance  of  twenty-five 
miles— fired  from  a  ship." 

Norroy  seemed  on  the  point  of  whistling, 
so  great  was  his  surprise.  He  did  not,  how 
ever,  but  his  slender  fingers  beat  a  rapid  tat 
too  on  the  table. 

"You  can  readily  understand  what  such 
an  invention  would  mean  to  naval  warfare. 
Twenty-five  miles!  It  would  render  prac 
tically  useless  the  navies  of  other  nations— 

"But  was  it  practicable?"  inquired  Nor- 
roy. 


98 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"That  we  do  not  know.  Gaylord  went 
away  from  the  United  States  to  work  on  it 
—received  a  concession  from  the  secretary 
of  war  to  utilize  one  of  the  islands  in  the  Sa- 
moan  group  for  the  purpose  of  testing  his 
invention.  He  refused  any  assistance  in  the 
way  of  skilled  helpers,  and  went  there  to 
work  by  himself.  Two  years  ago  he  ap 
peared  in  Tutuila  and  wired  the  secretary  of 
war  a  message  to  this  effect:  'Have  com 
pleted  model,  tested  it,  found  it  practicable, 
destroyed  it.  Proceeding  to  United  States 
via  Europe.  Need  rest.  Will  confer  with 
you  in  Washington  three  months'  time,  prob 
ably  utilizing  naval  gun  factory  purposes  of 
building.'  "  The  secretary  had  been  read 
ing  the  quotation  from  a  notebook  in  his 
hand.  He  closed  the  book  and  replaced  it 
in  his  pocket. 

"That  sounds  as  though  he  had  succeed 
ed,"  remarked  Yorke  Norroy. 

"We  heard  from  him  again  from  Hong 
kong,  from  Cairo  and  from  Vienna.  His 
next  place  to  stop  at  was  St.  Petersburg.  He 

99 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

is  supposed  to  have  never  arrived  there.  The 
clippings  and  the  detectives'  reports  will  tell 
yon  all  you  may  not  know,  but  which  has 
been  brought  to  light.  Perhaps  Anton  Du- 
mercier  may  be  able  to  supply  the  missing 
links." 

Norroy  rose  and  the  secretary  also.  "  Re 
member,  Norroy,  the  importance  of  this  af 
fair  is  without  parallel.  I  do  not  think  we 
have  ever  had  any  case  on  our  hands  which 
caused  as  many  sleepless  nights  as  has  Leo 
Gaylord's.  Imagine  a  gun  that  would  des 
troy  at  twenty-five  miles  in  the  possession  of 
any  European  power!  It  would  mean  the 
supremacy  of  the  sea—  the  absolute  suprem 
acy.  And  what  would  be  the  result?" 

There  was  no  need  for  either  man  to  an 
swer  the  question.  Both  understood  per 
fectly  what  the  mission  meant. 

"I  shall  go  to  New  York  to-night  and  take 
the  Lucania  to-morrow.  You  will  hear  from 
me  in  six  days  from  Paris." 

"And  remember,"  were  the  secretary's 
parting  words,  "spare  no  expense  and  no  ef- 

100 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

fort  to  glean  every  atom  of  the  truth  from 
Dumercier— or  whoever  wrote  that  letter." 

The  hard  lines  around  Norroy's  mouth 
were  excellent  reasons  to  believe  that  no 
such  instructions  were  needed  to  exert  him 
to  his  utmost  in  this  case. 

The  large,  fair-haired  man  with  the  mili 
tary  carriage  hesitated  at  the  entrance  of  the 
cafe  of  the  Hotel  Continental,  and  his  eyes 
roamed  about  the  low-ceilinged  room  as 
though  he  were  in  search  of  some  one.  Pres 
ently  the  vision  of  an  elaborately  attired 
boulevardier  in  frock  coat  and  tall  hat  was 
mirrored  in  his  orbs  to  the  exclusion  of  the 
other  patrons  of  the  cafe.  For  the  letter 
had  said  that  the  representative  of  the  Uni 
ted  States  would  wear  a  yellow  chrysanthe 
mum  as  a  boutonniere.  Such  lapel  decora 
tions  being  rare  in  Paris,  M.  Dumercier  hesi 
tated  no  more. 

He  approached  the  table  and  stood  before 
it,  regarding  the  man  with  the  chrysanthe 
mum  and  the  rimless  monocle. 

"Comment  vous  portez-vous,  m'sieur?" 

101 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

he  inquired,  with  respect. 

"Tres  bien,  merely  m'sieur/'  was  the  calm 
reply. 

C'eot  M'sieur  Lemaire?"  asked  the  fair- 
haired  man,  tentatively. 

"Oui,  m'sieur"  replied  the  monocled  one, 
with  brevity. 

It  was  sufficient  introduction,  and  the  two 
men  studied  each  other  over  the  foaming 
bocks  which  the  garcon  brought  at  the  com 
mand  of  the  one  addressed  as  Lemaire.  The 
conversation  was  mainly  on  the  weather  and 
the  recent  turmoils  in  the  Senate.  By  Du- 
mercier's  speech  it  was  easily  told  he  was 
not  a  Parisian— the  average  listener  would 
have  decided  he  was  from  one  of  the  lost 
provinces.  Lemaire,  too,  had  a  slight  accent 
which  proved  him  not  of  the  Boulevards,  but 
which  might  easily  obtain  with  a  native  of 
Languedoc  or  perhaps  Gascony. 

They  did  not  linger  long  in  the.  cafe,  but 
adjourned  to  Lemaire 's  apartments  on  the 
second  floor  of  the  hotel.  No  words  were 
wasted  between  the  two  on  the  way.  Le- 


102 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC   AGENT 

maire  threw  open  the  door  of  his  private  re 
ception  room  and  bade  Dumercier  enter. 
The  door  was  locked  and  both  men  went  into 
the  bedroom  adjoining,  Lemaire  closing  the 
second  door  as  they  passed  in. 

From  his  pocket  Lemaire  drew  a  letter 
which  he  handed  to  his  companion. 

"You  wrote  this?"  he  inquired. 

The  other  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"Well?"  It  was  easily  seen  from  Le 
maire  's  manner  that  he  expected  to  share 
little  in  the  conversation  and  that  he  did  not 
intend  to  draw  it  out  to  the  extent  of  a  per 
sonal  chat. 

"I  am  a  Pole,  M.  Lemaire,"  began  the 
other,  apologetically  almost,  "and  I  was  an 
officer  in  his  imperial  Russian  majesty's 
army.  I  am  not  now.  I  was  lucky  to  escape 
unharmed.  That  is  all  regarding  myself 
that  I  need  say,  is  it  not?" 

"Unless  it  concerns  M.  Gaylord— yes." 

"Well,  M.  Gaylord  is  in  a  Russian  prison. 
He  has  been  there  for  two  years.  That  was 
news  to  you  until  my  letter  came,  was  it  not, 

103 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

m'sieur?" 

The  other  nodded. 

"I  was  a  sergeant  in  the  Paulo wskis  when 
he  came.  Afterward  I  became  an  officer- 
but  no  matter.  How  I  came  to  discover 
what  I  know  is  also  no  matter.  Briefly,  I 
will  tell  you.  M.  Gaylord  was  arrested  near 
Moscow,  and  he  is  now  a  prisoner  but  a  few 
versts  from  that  city— in  the  fort  of  St. 
Basil. 

"They  did  not  intend  to  keep  M.  Gaylord 
prisoner  long.  They  thought  to  find  on  his 
person  some  sketch  or  plan  which  would  tell 
them  about  the  new  cannon  which  he  had 
invented.  But  there  were  no  papers  of  any 
kind  on  him  or  in  his  bags  and  boxes.  There 
fore,  he  was  taken  to  St.  Basil. 

"He  might  have  been  free  the  next  day  af 
ter  his  capture  if  he  had  given  up  his  ideas 
to  M.  Mobrikoff.  But  he  would  not.  M. 
Mobrikoff  is  chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Engi 
neers  and  Ordnance.  It  was  he  who  knew 
that  M.  Gaylord  had  completed  his  new  gun 
which  he  would  make  for  the  United  States. 


104 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"When  M.  Gaylord  refused  to  tell  him 
how  it  was  done,  he  told  M.  Gaylord  that  he 
should  remain  prisoner  until  he  did  so.  A 
prisoner,  then,  he  has  been  for  two  years, 
but  nothing  would  he  say. 

"Three  months  ago,  M.  Mobrikofd,  who  is 
also  a  colonel  and  a  noble  of  Russia— a 
count— made  up  his  mind  that  M.  Gaylord 
should  tell  what  he  knew.  So  M.  Gaylord 
was  ordered  to  be  knouted  if  he  would  not 
tell/' 

The  teeth  of  his  listener  came  together 
with  a  savage  snap,  and  he  crumpled  the  let 
ter  in  his  hand  into  a  shapeless  mass.  The 
man  who  called  himself  Dumercier  looked 
up  quickly.  His  auditor  had  begun  to 
straighten  out  the  paper  and  was  now  tear 
ing  it  slowly  to  pieces. 

"Proceed,"  he  commanded. 

"So  M.  Gaylord  was  knouted.  You  know 
the  knout,  m'sieur  ?  It  is  long  and  has  brass 
ends  to  it.  With  this  M.  Gaylord  was 
scourged— fifty  strokes  he  received. 

"But  he  would  not  tell  what  they  wished 

105 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

to  know.  The  count  then  said  that  each 
week  would  the  knout  be  given  him.  But  he 
would  not  answer.  He  only  closed  his  mouth 
as  you  did  but  a  moment  ago;  closed  his 
mouth  and  ground  one  tooth  against  another. 
And  what  he  said  was  in  your  English 
tongue.  The  language  I  do  not  know,  but 
so  many  times  has  M.  Gaylord  said  this  that 
I  have  learned  it,  too.  'Gotter  'ell!'  he  said 
—only  that,  no  more— 'Gotter  'ell!' 

"Now,  as  for  me,  I  was  foolish.  I  was 
an  officer.  I  was  a  noble,  too,  then,  for  one 
may  not  be  an  officer  without  he  be  noble. 
But  Poland— they  wish  to  be  free  there. 
And  I— but  that  is  concerning  myself, 
m'sieur.  It  only  serves  for  you  to  know 
that  I  determined  to  leave  Eussia  before  it 
was  so  arranged  that  I  might  never  leave  it. 

"M.  Gaylord  I  liked.  I  went  to  him.  I 
told  him  that  I  was  coming  out  of  Russia. 
So  then  he  told  me  this.  I  dared  not  write 
it  down,  for  I  knew  I  might  be  searched,  but 
this  I  learned  from  him  and  repeated  it 
again  and  again : 

106 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC   AGENT 

"  '  I  have  been  beaten  like  a  dog  and  caged 
like  a  criminal.  I  love  my  country,  but  if 
my  country  cannot  aid  me,  or  will  not,  I 
must  aid  myself.  As  yet  Russia  knows 
nothing  of  my  new  weapon.  Three  months 
from  to-day,  if  I  am  not  free,  she  will  know 
all.'  " 

The  paper  in  the  hands  of  the  other  had 
been  reduced  to  the  tiniest  fragments.  He 
looked  up. 

"That  was  all?"  he  inquired. 

"All  except  that  if  I  succeeded  in  carry 
ing  the  message  the  person  to  whom  I  gave 
it  should  pay  me  ten  thousand  rubles,  and 
collect  the  same  from  his  brother,  Douglas 
Gaylord,  of  Birmingham,  Alabama.  If  he 
were  freed,  ten  thousand  more  he  would  him 
self  pay  me." 

"This  man  Mobrikoff— what  of  him?" 

"I  have  told  you.  He  is  a  noble  and  a 
colonel  in  the  army.  He  is  also  the  chief 
of  the  engineers  and  of  the  ordnance.  He 
has  Romanoff  blood." 

They  talked  more.     The   monocled   one 

107 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

asked  many  questions— searching  questions 
which  went  into  the  history  of  Mobrikoff's 
past  career  and  all  those  connected  with 
him;  his  likes  and  his  dislikes;  his  habits 
and  his  manners. 

There  was  a  satisfied  gleam  on  the  ques 
tioner's  face  when  the  information  was 
elicited  that  MobrikofPs  failings  lay  in  the 
direction  of  women. 

"Ah,  yes!"  the  Pole  said.  "The  chan- 
teuses  of  the  Palermo.  They  indeed  are  the 
favorites  of  M.  Mobrikoff.  To  one  he  threw 
a  thousand-ruble  note.  I  was  there,  m'sieur, 
for  a  girl  from  my  village  danced.  After 
ward  she  told  me.  It  is  that,  m'sieur.  Stage 
women— I  know  not  why— he  seeks  his 
feminine  society  among  them " 

He  was  cut  short  by  the  other  rising. 

"There  is  a  note  for  five  hundred  francs, 
M.  Dumercier,"  he  said,  curtly.  "I  will  see 
more  of  you  again.  I  will  write  you.  Mean 
while  I  must  think " 

"But  the  ten  thousand?" 

"All  in  good  time.    I  must  see  for  my- 

108 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

self.  I  go  to  Moscow  to-night.  But  have 
no  fear.  It  is  but  a  trip  of  inspection.  I  will 
return  before  the  week  is  out.  Au  revoir, 
m'sieur." 

He  saw  him  to  the  door,  and  then  sat  down 
in  the  reception  room.  For  some  minutes 
he  sat  perfectly  still.  Then  he  lighted  a 
cigarette,  and  after  that  many  more,  his 
slender  fingers  meanwhile  drumming  a 
devil's  tattoo  on  the  arm  of  the  chair  in 
which  he  sat. 

That  evening  the  six  o'clock  express  for 
the  north  bore  the  person  of  M.  Lemaire, 
described  in  his  passport  as  a  French- Ameri 
can;  occupation,  the  management  of  thea 
ters  ;  residence,  New  York  City,  and  object 
in  visiting  Moscow,  business  connected  with 
the  theaters.  The  passport  was  signed  by 
the  minister  of  the  United  States  to  France. 

In  Moscow  M.  Lemaire  remained  several 
days.  He  exhibited  a  tourist's  curiosity 
with  regard  to  the  old  city.  M.  Mikhaelo- 
vitch,  the  manager  of  the  cafe  chantant— 
the  Palermo— gratified  this  curiosity  per- 

109 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

sonally.  In  His  company  M.  Lemaire  visited 
the  Kremlin,  the  Cathedral  of  Ostankino, 
the  Church  of  the  Nativity,  and  that  weird 
architectural  monstrosity,  the  Church  of  St. 
Basil  the  Beatified,  with  its  forest  of  bell 
towers,  ornamented  with  heraldic  designs, 
pots  of  flowers  and  many  grotesque  figures. 

Naturally,  from  the  Church  of  St.  Basil, 
it  was  not  strange  that  the  mind  wandered 
to  the  prison  of  the  same  saint.  So  thither 
they  went,  too.  M.  Lemaire  seemed  to  take 
but  little  interest  in  the  grim  criminal  in 
stitution,  so  they  remained  but  a  short  while. 

When  M.  Lemaire  left  Moscow  and  M. 
Mikhaelovitch,  he  promised  the  proprietor 
that  his  chanteuses  would  arrive  within  sev 
eral  weeks.  Whereupon  M.  Mikhaelovitch 
smiled  in  a  gratified  manner,  soon  afterward 
conferring  with  the  disreputable  journalist 
who  aided  him  in  his  work,  when  he  was  not 
overfull  of  vodka.  The  disreputable  jour 
nalist  wrote  a  sonnet  which  exalted  the 
beauty  and  ravishing  charms  of  certain 
English  and  American  singers  who  would 

110 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

delight  the  inhabitants  of  the  Kitai-Gorod 
with  ballads  sung  in  M.  Mikhaelovitch's 
charming  resort,  the  Palermo.  This  sonnet 
was  published  in  the  newspapers  of  Moscow 
and  was  read  by  noblemen  and  officers  of 
the  navy  and  marine  who  sojourned  with 
in  the  Kitai-Gorod.  These  exalted  person 
ages  were  frequenters  of  M.  Mikhaelovitch's 
cafe  cJiantant.  Consequently  they  were  in 
terested. 

Meanwhile  two  cablegrams  had  been  des 
patched  by  M.  Lemaire  as  soon  as  the  train 
left  the  realm  of  the  Great  White  Czar.  Both 
were  in  code,  and  the  German  telegrapher 
who  handled  them  scowled,  for  such  mes 
sages  were  not  liked  in  his  Teutonic  majes 
ty's  realm.  But  they  were  despatched  never 
theless. 

One  was  to  the  secretary  of  state,  and  re 
quested  that  Miss  Adelaide  Hardesty  be 
ordered  to  Paris  immediately  to  join  Theo- 
phile  Lemaire  at  the  Hotel  Continental. 
The  other  was  to  Miss  Hardesty  herself 
and  is  perhaps  worth  quoting: 

111 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Secretary  wired  to-day  request  for  your  assistance. 
Select  three  prettiest  show  girls  in  Manhattan.  Bring 
them  with  you.  Consult  secretary  regarding  reasons. 

Thus  Edna  Follis,  Mabel  Dupree  and 
Nanette  Edmonds  forsook  the  Bialto  and 
journeyed  with  Miss  Adelaide  Hardesty  to 
Paris. 

A  letter  fully  explaining  the  reasons  for 
the  two  cablegrams  reached  the  secretary  of 
state  by  the  Campania.  It  bore  the  post 
mark  of  Paris.  In  part  it  read : 

The  man  who  gives  the  information  is  a  Polish  nihilist, 
formerly  an  officer  in  the  Russian  army.  If  we  were  to 
take  the  matter  up  legally  with  Russia,  his  oath  would  not 
be  worth  the  word  of  a  Chinese  diplomat.  He  is  dis 
credited  and  disgraced,  and  acknowledges  the  fact  him 
self.  To  make  a  serious  charge  against  another  power 
on  the  strength  of  such  a  man's  statement  would  be  im 
possible  and  absurd.  It  would  be  denied,  and  if  things 
came  to  the  worst  Gaylord  would  probably  be  sacrificed 
and  his  body  put  into  some  vault  of  the  fort.  My  plan 
seems  to  be  the  only  feasible  one.  If  it  fails,  be  assured 
that  I  am  quite  aware  of  the  fact  that  I  can  expect  no 
assistance  from  the  United  States — officially. 

This  screed  was  signed  with  the  initials 
of  Yorke  Norroy. 


112 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  GIEL  FROM  BROADWAY. 

For  two  weeks,  the  American  chanteuses 
had  sung  and  danced  before  the  critical 
audience  which  nightly  gathered  in  the  cafe 
chantant  of  M.  Mikhaelovitch.  Incidentally, 
their  twinkling  feet,  coquettish  gestures, 
trim  forms  and  speaking  orbs  had  caused 
the  Odessa  Jewesses  and  Georgian  beauties, 
hitherto  such  favorites,  to  fill  the  position 
commonly  denominated  as  "  facing  the 
wall."  Even  Yvette  d'Alencon,  Parisian 
and  consequently  charming,  was  not  ac 
claimed  as  of  yore.  The  American  beauties 
had  caused  her  star  to  wane  and  become  dim. 

The  Americans  brought  rag-time  with 
them.  Moscow  had  heard  rag-time  before, 
but  not  sung  as  the  Eialto  girls  sang  it,  nor 
accompanied  with  the  complement  of  "  goo- 
goo"  eyes  and  buck  and  wing  dances. 

The   receipts   of  M.   Mikhaelovitch   in- 

113 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

creased,  and  lie  one  day,  in  an  excess  of  jubi 
lance,  embraced  M.  Lemaire  and  kissed  him 
affectionately  on  both  cheeks;  which  was 
Russian  sentiment  and  meant  that  he  cher 
ished  M.  Lemaire  as  a  brother.  M.  Lemaire, 
being  French,  should  have  appreciated  this, 
but  evidently  his  residence  in  America  had 
deprived  him  of  the  mental  light  which  ap 
proved  of  osculation  between  those  of  the 
same  sex.  As  it  was,  M.  Mikhaelovitch  nar 
rowly  missed  being  stunned  into  uncon 
sciousness  by  a  blow  from  M.  Lemaire 's  fist. 
M.  Lemaire,  however,  remembered  his  part 
and  restrained  himself. 

Back  in  the  dressing-rooms,  the  girls  chat 
ted  among  themselves. 

"Talk  about  your  New  York  Johnnies," 
sniffed  Mabel  Dupree.  "Why,  they're  not  in 
it  for  a  minute  with  these  fly  Russian  guys. 
Say,  Edie,  you  remember  that  chap  that  sat 
in  that  second  walled-off  pen  last  night  and 
threw  me  a  pearl  bracelet,  eh?  Well,  he's 
here  again  to-night.  I  just  peeped  out  be 
hind  the  curtain  and  saw  him." 


114 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Edna  Follis  adjusted  her  pompon.  "  You'd 
better  leave  the  new  ones  alone  and  stick  to 
the  old,"  she  said,  warningly.  "That  Captain 
Wishtoff  --  " 

"Wesshoff,"  corrected  Mabel,  indignant- 


" 


Well,  anyhow,  he's  a  good  fellow.  You 
won't  find  many  will  hand  you  out  a  diamond 
brooch  like  the  one  he  gave  you.  He'll  be 
angrier  than  the  seven  Satans  if  you  throw 
any  eyes  at  this  other  fellow.  I  know  --  " 

"Victor?"  suggested  Mabel,  pleasantly. 

"Shut  up!  You  don't  know  anything 
about  Victor.  Why  don't  you  try  to  act  as 
though  you  had  some  sense  ?  Act  like  Ade 
laide.  Adelaide  hasn't  mixed  up  with  any 
smelling  Eusskis." 

The  third  girl,  who  had  been  silent,  now 
spoke.  "Adelaide  is  a  fool,"  she  comment 
ed.  "There's  that  fellow  who  comes  here 
every  night.  Sends  her  candy  and  flowers 
and—  everything.  I  know  who  he  is.  Lieu 
tenant  Ogareff  told  me.  He's  Count  Mobri- 
koff,  and  he's  related  somehow  to  the  czar's 

115 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

family.  And  Adelaide  won't  pay  any  at 
tention  to  him." 

"I  believe  Adelaide  has  a  mash  on  Le- 
maire,  and  hasn't  got  any  time  for  anybody 
else.  Can 't  say  I  like  him  much.  Do  you  ? ' ' 
observed  Miss  Follis. 

"No,  I  don't.  He's  altogether  too  fond 
of  browbeating  people.  Say,  do  you  know 
I  have  my  doubts  about  him  being  French  ? 
I  heard  him  talking  to  Adelaide  day  before 
yesterday  in  the  corridor,  and  he  spoke  as 
good  English  as  you  or  I." 

There  was  a  rap  on  the  door  and  the  call 
for  Miss  Follis  was  made.  Whereupon  Miss 
Follis  donned  her  light  top-coat  over  her  red 
skirts,  and,  taking  her  beribboned  cane,  de 
parted  to  delight  the  souls  of  the  children  of 
the  czar  with  the  amatory  strains  of  "I've 
GotaFeelin'forYou." 

There  was  no  dearth  of  auditors  for  Miss 
Follis'  coon  song.  The  brass-railinged  tiers 
of  the  pit  had  their  tables  crowded  with  men 
in  the  various  uniforms  of  the  army  of  the 
czar;  the  blue-black  of  the  marine,  the  sky- 

116 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

blue  of  the  infantry,  the  red  of  the  telegraph, 
the  orange  of  the  light  cavalry — all  were 
represented  there.  The  sight  catching  the 
singer's  eye  from  the  stage  was  reminiscent 
of  a  rainbow.  The  electric  lights  shone  on 
patent  leather  boots,  gold  braiding,  silver 
spurs  and  jingling  swords.  The  spectators 
themselves  were  mostly  of  the  same  class- 
army  officers,  naval  officers,  employees  of 
the  government  in  some  shape  and  form,  all 
wearing  uniforms,  and  all  ready  to  cast  up 
on  the  stage  money  extorted  from  the  gov 
ernment,  as  evidence  of  their  pleasure  in  the 
antics  of  those  who  appeared  before  them. 
But  there  was  one  man  in  all  this  crowd 
who  was  immediately  brought  to  the  atten 
tion  of  any  who  entered.  He  sat  on  a  raised 
platform,  almost  on  a  level  with  the  stage, 
and  it  was  known  that  this  platform  was 
one  which  was  occupied  by  none  save  those 
of  high  rank.  The  man  who  occupied  this 
place  was  attired  in  the  uniform  of  colonel 
of  engineers,  and  he  wore  on  his  breast  the 
Order  of  St.  Nicholas.  He  was  a  well-known 


117 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

patron  of  the  Palermo,  this  nobleman— the 
Count  Mobrikoff. 

To  Miss  Follis,  Mobrikoff  paid  little 
heed,  only  frowning  when  she  was  recalled 
for  the  fourth  time  to  sinp1  over  the  ballad 
regarding  the  " sneaking  feeling."  Miss 
Dupree,  who  followed  her,  likewise  gave 
him  no  pleasure,  to  judge  from  the  scowl 
with  which  he  favored  the  inoffensive  waiter 
on  ordering  his  second  bottle  of  Paul  Roget. 
After  Miss  Dupree  came  Mile.  Yvette 
d'Alencon,  who  was  received  coldly  and  en 
cored  but  once,  and  that  only  by  a  few  of 
the  faithful. 

The  entrance  of  the  next  chanteuse  was 
preceded  by  loud  applause  and  clapping  of 
hands,  for  Miss  Adelaide  Moray,  as  the  bills 
styled  her,  had  made  more  than  an  ordinary 
hit  with  the  patrons  of  the  cafe  chantant. 
At  her  appearance  Mobrikoff  leaned  for 
ward  and  watched  closely,  with  the  light  of 
admiration  in  his  eye.  At  the  conclusion  of 
her  song  he  joined  in  the  applause  and 
tossed  a  tiny  box  upon  the  stage.  Adelaide 

118 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

stooped  down  and  secured  it. 

She  was  forced  to  repeat  her  song  sev 
eral  times,  but  after  the  ordeal  had  been 
gone  through  with  she  made  her  way  hastily 
to  her  dressing-room  and  opened  the  box. 
It  contained  a  heart-shaped  pin  set  with 
diamonds  and  rubies,  around  which  was 
wrapped  a  note  in  French.  A  few  moments 
later  M.  Lemaire  and  she  were  conversing 
over  the  note. 

"H'm,  h'm!"  Lemaire  was  reading  it. 
"  'Scorned  my  advances,  refused  my  gifts, 
beg  interview'— h'm,  h'm— 'wear  the  pin  as 
token  of  acceptance.'  "  He  looked  up  and, 
speaking  in  English,  said:  "Johnnies  are 
the  same  the  world  over,  aren't  they,  Ade 
laide  1" 

She  nodded.  "Shall  I  accept?  It  seems 
to  me  I've  held  him  off  enough  already." 

He  meditated.  "You  have  the  necessary 
liquors  in  your  reception  room  to  satisfy  his 
lordship?" 

"Considering  that  you  sent  them  there, 
you  should  know.  I  haven't  touched  any  of 

119 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

them.  You  know  how  I  despise  intoxi 
cants." 

"And  you  have— the  other?" 

She  eyed  him  scornfully.  "  Kindly  give 
me  credit  for  having  some  foresighted- 
ness." 

He  examined  his  watch.  Then  he  looked 
at  her  thoughtfully.  "Do  you  know,  Ade 
laide,  you're  rather  a  stunning-looking 
girlu?"  he  said. 

If  healthy,  rounded  form,  milk-white 
skin  with  the  faintest  ruddy  tinge,  and  deep 
black  eyes  constitute  "stunningness,"  then 
M.  Lemaire  was  correct.  Adelaide  Hard- 
esty— or  Moray— was  the  type  of  a  woman 
who  appeals  to  the  mind  looking  for  out 
ward  charm.  The  finer  workings  of  her 
mind  were  not  apparent  to  many,  for  she 
chose  not  to  reveal  them,  passing  rather  as 
a  woman  whose  sole  desire  in  life  was  to 
cling  to  the  wheel  of  pleasure  as  long  as 
life  held  forth  within. 

She  looked  out  at  Lemaire  from  under  her 
long  lashes.  "That  is  part  of  the  game," 

120 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

sHe  returned,  without  the  faintest  show  of 
emotion  of  any  kind.  "I  suppose  your  ex 
amination  of  your  watch  is  a  question  which 
I  am  to  answer.  I  think  if  you  enter  my 
reception  room  at  the  hotel  at  twelve  o'clock 
you  will  find  the  gentleman  in  a  condition 
fit  for  our  ends." 

As  he  smiled  and  patted  her  shoulder  pa 
ternally,  her  smile  was  very  bitter.  When 
he  had  gone,  after  giving  a  few  further  in 
structions,  she  became  pensive.  "A  good 
tool  for  his  ends,  that  is  all,"  she  told  her 
self.  The  bitterness  was  gone,  there  was 
only  sadness  in  the  whisper. 

When  she  went  on  for  her  second  turn, 
she  wore  the  pin  which  M.  Mobrikoff  had 
thrown  to  her.  The  eyes  of  the  Eussian  noble 
man  lighted  up,  and  he  ordered  more  cham 
pagne.  She  watched  him  as  she  sang  and 
threw  him  several  looks  which  she  strove 
to  make  unstudied. 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  droshky  of  Count 
Mobrikoff  was  at  the  narrow  door  out  of 
which  the  performers  passed  from  the  stage, 

121 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

while  within  the  outer  room  the  owner  of  the 
droshky  sat,  rubbing  his  booted  legs  to 
gether,  toying  with  his  sword,  and  watching 
the  door  to  Miss  Hardesty's  dressing-room 
with  ill-concealed  anticipation. 

When  she  emerged,  clad  in  sealskins,  her 
masses  of  heavy  hair  adorned  with  a  toque 
of  the  same  material,  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 
Her  dark  eyes  fell  upon  him  rather  shyly. 

"I  am  your  slave,  mademoiselle,"  he  said, 
in  French,  and  with  the  customary  extrava 
gance  of  the  Eussian.  He  took  one  of  her 
little  gloved  hands  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

"Almost  every  night  for  two  weeks  past 
I  have  watched  you.  I  had  thought  that  you 
were  cold  to  me,  and  that  you  preferred  an 
other " 

"Herd,  m'sieur/'  she  returned.  "But  I 
must  hurry  on  now.  Some  other  time,  per- 
haps- 

"What!  will  you  leave  me  so  soon,  now 
that  I  have  found  you?  Ah,  no,  mademoi 
selle—ah,  no!  You  must  come  with  me  to 
the  Ulamen.  There  we  will  have  a  little  sup- 

122 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 


per  and  some  wine— and  I  will  feast  my  eyes 
upon  you." 

She  blushed.  The  blush  was  real.  Ade 
laide  Hardesty  had  not  yet  hardened  her 
self  to  playing  the  part  which  her  chief  had 
assigned  her.  The  scraping  Russian  dis 
gusted  her.  She  knew  what  lay  behind  this 
flattery.  She  knew  of  the  knouting  of  Gay- 
lord  and  of  other  things.  At  the  thought  of 
the  last,  she  braved  herself  to  the  ordeal. 

"If  you  insist,  m'sieur,"  she  said,  smiling 
faintly,  "I  will  allow  you  to  go  with  me  to 
my  hotel." 

"Ah,  yes!  You  have  lifted  me  out  of 
Hades  into  Heaven.  My  droshky  awaits 
without." 

He  took  her  arm,  and  she  allowed  him  to 
help  her  into  the  vehicle.  A  word  to  his 
driver,  and  they  were  whirling  across  the 
snow  in  the  direction  of  the  Hotel  d'Angle- 
terre,  where  Adelaide  Hardesty  maintained 
a  suite  of  rooms.  She  strove  to  make  it  ap 
pear  to  the  Russian  that  she  was  interested 
in  him,  and,  thanks  to  his  egotism,  her  rather 

123 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

studied  attempts  passed  for  realities.  And 
now  the  hotel  loomed  up  before  them.  He 
stepped  to  the  ground  and  helped  her  to 
alight. 

"And  now,  M.  le  Comte,"  she  said,  as  she 
released  his  hand,  "I  will  say  good  night  and 
thank  you." 

"You  will  leave  me  now?  Ah,  no!  Let 
us  go  within  this  hotel  of  yours.  Let 
iis  have  the  supper  of  which  I  spoke " 

He  talked  on  more  in  the  same  strain,  and 
presently  she  assented  reluctantly. 

"I  have  a  reception  room,  M.  le  Comte," 
she  told  him.  "In  that  you  may  stay  for  a 
while  if  you  wish.  I  do  not  care  for  the 
public  dining  room,  nor  do  I  care  for  food." 

Mobrikoff,  delighted  at  his  supposed  vic 
tory,  followed  her,  and  after  the  servant  had 
gone  ahead  to  light  the  rooms,  she  motioned 
him  to  the  elevator,  which  raised  them  to 
the  third  floor.  Down  the  uncarpeted  hall 
she  led  him  to  where  the  attendant  stood, 
holding  the  door  of  her  apartments  open. 
The  count  bowed  for  her  to  pass  in,  and 

124 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

when  she  had  done  so  followed  her. 

He  did  not  waste  time.  The  man  was 
plainly  attracted  by  the  girl,  and  he  brought 
all  his  previous  knowledge  of  women  to  bear 
upon  her.  But  he  would  have  failed  even 
had  she  not  known  of  him  what  she  did,  for 
Adelaide  Hardesty  had  her  own  ideas  of 
mankind,  and  the  use  of  flattery  did  not 
come  in  as  part  of  the  character  of  her  ideal 
man.  But  she  had  been  an  actress  too  long 
to  fail  in  any  part  once  she  entered  into  the 
spirit  of  it. 

She  had  placed  various  liqueurs  on  the 
table  soon  after  her  entrance,  and  he  had 
done  full  justice  to  all  of  them.  She  had 
waited  to  see  him  a  trifle  influenced  by  the 
intoxicants  before  bringing  out  the  chef- 
d'oeuvre. 

"  You  have  heard  of  the  American  drink— 
the  cocktail  ?"  she  asked,  her  deep  eyes 
turned  full  upon  him  and  her  red  lips  curv 
ing  in  a  smile  which  she  intended  to  appear 
tender.  "That  is  the  drink  which  surpasses 
them  all." 

125 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Of  that  I  have  heard,"  he  responded. 
"And  I  will  never  rest  until  I  have  drunk  it, 
for  is  it  not  the  national  drink  of  Mile.  Ade 
laide  's  own  land?" 

She  smiled  at  his  lofty  words,  a  natural 
smile  this,  for,  now  that  she  had  hardened 
herself  to  what  she  was  about  to  do,  the 
Russian's  extravagance  was  humorous  to 
her  American  mind.  "You  need  not  wait 
long  for  the  cocktail,  M.  le  Comte,"  she 
said.  ' '  I  myself  will  make  one  for  you. ' ' 

He  was  almost  maudlin  now  and  mur 
mured  something  about  Hebe  and  the  nectar 
of  Olympus.  She  took  the  vermuth,  the 
whisky,  the  bitters  and  the  lemon,  making 
the  drinks  on  a  little  tabouret  with  her  back 
turned  to  him.  Then  she  placed  the  ice  with 
in  the  frail-stemmed  glasses  and  poured  in 
the  decoction.  In  one  of  them  she  dropped 
something  which  she  had  been  holding  in  the 
palm  of  her  hand,  and  quickly  broke  the 
tiny  tablet  to  pieces  with  the  spoon,  stirring 
it  vigorously.  Then  she  placed  both  glasses 
on  a  tiny  tray,  with  the  one  over  which  she 

126 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

had  expended  so  much  trouble  on  the  Rus 
sian's  side. 

"Will  you  drink?"  she  asked,  gayly. 

He  reached  out  his  hand  and  took  the 
glass.  She  raised  hers  and  they  clinked  them 
together. 

"To  mademoiselle's  eyes!"  he  cried. 

He  drank  it  down  with  every  appearance 
of  enjoyment  and  then  threw  the  glass  over 
his  shoulder.  It  alighted  on  the  hearth  and 
broke  into  tiny  fragments.  "A  fitting  end 
for  a  glass  which  has  served  its  purpose," 
she  thought. 

And  now  came  the  hardest  part  of  all,  for 
the  drink  mounting  to  the  Russian's  head 
aroused  all  his  hitherto  suppressed  boldness, 
and  in  the  manner  of  his  race  he  made  love 
to  the  American  girl.  At  first  a  mere  press 
ing  of  the  hand  to  his  lips,  with  the  accom 
panying  declarations  of  affection.  She  had 
purposely  seated  herself  upon  a  tiny  chair  in 
order  that  he  might  not  come  nearer. 

He  was  determined  that  he  would  take 
the  girl  into  his  arms.  His  feet  were  un- 

127 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

steady  now  and  his  head  whirled.  Out  of 
the  mist  that  enveloped  him,  he  could  see 
only  her  eyes  shining  in  the  light  of  the 
shaded  lamp.  He  rose  to  his  feet,  trying  to 
fight  down  his  weakness. 

6 *  I  love  you, ' '  he  muttered.    *  '  I  love  you. ' ' 

He  moved  forward,  still  holding  her  hand. 
She  rose.  The  latent  beast  in  his  eyes  terri 
fied  her.  He  stretched  out  his  arms  as 
though  to  envelop  her  within  them.  But 
at  that  moment  a  great  desire  for  rest  over 
mastered  him.  He  forgot  the  shining  eyes. 

"I— I "  he  began,  Then  his  legs  be 
came  weak  at  the  knee,  and  he  toppled  for 
ward,  gripping  the  table.  But  his  muscles 
were  inert,  and  his  head  slipped  along  the 
polished  surface,  and,  with  a  crash  of  bottles 
and  glasses,  the  form  of  the  chief  of  engi 
neers  flattened  itself  on  the  floor. 

She  stood  erect,  pale  and  afraid.  Then  her 
eyes  turned  to  the  senseless  body  of  the 
man.  There  was  no  sound  in  the  room  save 
his  heavy  breathing. 

She  looked  at  her  watch.    It  was  rapidly 

128 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

nearing  the  hour  of  twelve.  She  sat  down, 
supporting  her  head  with  her  hands,  among 
the  broken  remains  of  bottles  and  glassware, 
the  trickling  liqueurs  dripping  on  her  gown. 
She  knew  it,  but  she  hardly  cared. 

Out  of  the  distance  the  toll  of  the  second 
Tsar  Kolokol,  the  great  bell  of  the  Kremlin, 
rumbled  out  the  strokes  of  midnight.  Then 
came  a  gentle  knock  on  the  door.  She  arose 
and  admitted  Lemaire. 

" Successful,  of  course?" 

"Of  course,"  she  responded,  wearily. 
"He  lies  there." 

"Then  I  must  ask  you  to  go  into  your 
room,  Adelaide,"  said  Lemaire.  The  girl 
obeyed  him,  leaving  him  alone  with  the  man. 
Lemaire  lifted  the  frame  of  the  senseless 
Russian  in  his  arms  and  deposited  him  on 
the  divan. 

"It  is  lucky  for  me  that  I  am  the  average 
height  of  a  man,"  soliloquized  Lemaire. 
"Quite  lucky,  indeed." 

It  was  but  a  matter  of  a  few  moments  be 
fore  the  gorgeous  uniform  had  been  stripped 

129 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

from  the  person  of  M.  Mobrikoff.  His  de- 
spoiler  opened  a  bag  which  he  carried,  and 
which  contained  a  suit  of  coarse  brown 
serge.  In  this  he  arrayed  the  drugged  of 
ficer,  gathering  up  Mobrikoff  's  uniform  and 
placing  it  in  the  bag  from  which  he  had  tak 
en  the  brown  clothes. 

"Now,  Adelaide,"  he  called. 

The  girl  re-entered.  "Where  is  that  long 
wardrobe  trunk  of  yours?"  he  inquired. 

The  girl  threw  back  the  hangings  at  the 
end  of  the  room  and  disclosed  one  of  those 
monstrosities  which  are  the  trial  of  the 
baggage-smasher — a  theatrical  wardrobe 
trunk  and  property  box.  In  length  it  ap 
proximated  six  feet  and  in  height  about 
three.  She  unlocked  it.  It  was  empty. 

"The  drug  will  hold  good  for  about  six 
hours.  During  that  time  he  will  be  safe, 

but  after  that We  had  better  bind  him 

now,  Adelaide." 

He  took  some  stout  manila  rope  from  the 
same  bag  he  had  before  utilized,  and  the  feet 
and  hands  of  Count  Mobrikoff  were  securely 

130 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

bound.  A  gag  was  placed  in  the  Bussian's 
mouth  and  bound  tightly  about  his  head.  Le- 
maire  picked  up  the  trussed  body  and  placed 
it  within  the  trunk. 

"You  have  bored  the  air  holes?"  he  in 
quired. 

"There  are  four  on  each  side  and  ten  in 
the  top.  He  isn't  in  any  danger  of  asphyxia 
tion,"  was  her  reply. 

Lemaire  straightened  out  the  knees  of  the 
captive. 

"All  that  is  necessary  now  is  to  throw  in 
enough  clothes  to  keep  him  from  bumping 
from  side  to  side,"  he  said.  "I  should  ad 
vise  you  to  lock  the  trunk  to-night,  for  he 
will  be  sensible  in  the  morning." 

Then  he  turned  to  go,  but  she  caught  him 
by  the  arm. 

"Haven't  you  a  word  of  praise?"  she 
asked,  brokenly. 

He  regarded  her  with  much  intentness. 
"Too  much  praise,  Adelaide,  to  put  it  into 
words.  I  know  how  distasteful  it  is  to  you. 
You  are  a  brave  little  girl !"  He  patted  her 

131 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

shoulder  in  Ms  old  way.  "But  remember 
what  this  man  has  done.  He  deserves  more 
than  a  cramping  of  'his  limbs  for  several 
days." 

She  tried  to  be  calm.  "Will  you  be  suc 
cessful/?"  she  asked  tremulously. 

"There  is  no  reason  why  I  should  not  be," 
he  answered.  "I  rely  on  you  to  carry  out 
your  part,  you  know.  And  I  know  you  will. 
Good-night,  little  girl." 

When  she  had  closed  the  door  she  stared 
long  and  blankly  at  the  entrance  through 
which  he  had  passed.  Then  she  rocked  her 
self  to  and  fro,  murmuring  and  whispering 
to  herself:  "A  good  tool  for  his  ends— a 
good  tool." 

She  threw  the  required  clothes  into  the 
trunk,  closed  and  locked  it.  '  *  After  all, ' '  she 
sighed,  "it's  better  to  be  a  tool  for  him  than 
"  She  did  not  finish  her  sentence. 


132 


CHAPTER  III. 

WITHIN  THE  PRISON  HOUSE. 

A  little  after  twelve  word  had  been  taken 
to  the  driver  of  the  droshky  of  Count  Mobri- 
koff  that  the  Count  would  remain  at  the  ho 
tel  for  the  night,  but  that  the  droshky  was 
to  be  waiting  for  him  the  next  morning  at 
nine  o'clock,  when  he  would  visit  the  fort 
of  St.  Basil.  This  message  was  sent  from 
the  room  of  M.  Theophile  Lemaire. 

Within  that  same  apartment  several 
changes  took  place  between  midnight  and 
morning,  and  had  there  been  an  observer 
near  by,  he  might  have  sworn  that  three  men 
occupied  the  same  room.  For  into  the  room 
and  to  bed  went  M.  Theophile  Lemaire,  a 
Frenchman  with  a  slightly  bald  pate,  a  small 
waxed  mustache  and  heavy  eyebrows.  When 
the  rays  of  morning  sunlight  disclosed  the 
sleeper  there  was  no  sign  of  M.  Theophile 
Lemaire.  The  snowy  counterpane  covered 

133 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

the  form  of  a  man  with  light  brown  hair, 
clean-shaven,  and  evidently  of  Anglo-Saxon 
origin.  When  he  awoke  and  stood  erect  in 
his  pajamas,  it  would  not  have  been  hard  for 
anyone  who  knew  him  to  recognize  Mr. 
Yorke  Norroy. 

But  Yorke  Norroy  existed  only  during 
the  time  that  he  took  his  bath  and  shaved. 
Nine  o'clock  saw  him  standing  in  the  lobby 
of  the  Hotel  d'Angleterre  an  officer  of  his 
imperial  Russian  majesty's  army,  whose 
hair  was  coal-black  and  whose  mouth 
was  shaded  by.  an  enormous  military  mus 
tache  turned  upward  in  German  style ;'  his 
eyebrows  were  heavy  and  his  military  cap 
was  pulled  down  to  shade  his  eyes.  Evident 
ly,  M.  le  Comte  Mobrikoff  had  contracted  a 
severe  cold,  for  he  spoke  hoarsely  and  his 
neck  was  swathed  with  a  white  silk  kerchief. 
The  collar  of  his  greatcoat  was  turned  up 
ward  to  protect  his  throat. 

He  lighted  a  cigarette  and  inquired  in  a 
husky  tone  if  his  droshky  awaited  him.  On 
being  informed  it  did,  he  went  out  of  the 

134 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

hotel  lobby  and  into  the  street  where  his 
driver  assisted  him  into  the  vehicle.  In  the 
same  hoarse  tone,  he  directed  him  to  drive  to 
the  fort  of  St.  Basil. 

[Through  the  streets  of  the  Kitai-Gorod 
and  over  the  frozen  snow  the  droshky  sped, 
its  owner  smoking  cigarette  after  cigarette 
and  gazing  out  on  the  passing  crowd.  Many 
peasants  and  moujiks  doffed  their  caps  and 
he  saluted  them  gravely,  while  occupants  of 
other  vehicles  called  to  him  as  they  sped  by. 

Through  the  Kitai-Gorod,  into  the  Beloi- 
Gorod,  and  finally  into  the  Zemlianai,  the 
droshky  of  Mobrikoff  went.  The  last,  be 
ing  the  Chinese  city,  was  naturally  dirtier 
than  either  the  European  or  the  Tartar 
quarters,  and  the  vehicle  went  more  slowly 
on  account  of  the  slippery  streets. 

When  the  Iverskaya  Chasnovnia  was 
reached,  the  driver  reined  in  his  horses  and 
doffed  his  hat  to  the  sacred  icon  within  the 
Iberian  Chapel,  and  Norroy,  sitting  behind 
him,  perforce  did  the  same.  After  this  act 
of  devotion,  the  horses,  started  again  by  a 

135 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

swift  cut  from  the  driver's  whip,  dashed 
through  the  Resurrection  Gate  of  the  Chi 
nese  wall  and  out  beyond  the  city,  where,  a 
few  versts  away,  the  fort  of  St.  Basil 
frowned  ominously  on  the  waters  of  the 
Moskowa. 

It  required  but  little  time  to  make  the 
journey  now,  and  they  were  soon  halted  by 
the  Siberian  sentinel  who  stood  beside  the 
first  gate  of  St.  Basil. 

"It  is  the  great  colonel,  Count  Mobrikoff," 
the  driver  informed  him,  in  the  queer  argot 
of  the  Baltic  provinces— half  Slav,  half 
Teutonic. 

Instantly  the  soldier's  carbine  was  raised 
in  salute.  The  iron  gates  swung  open  pon 
derously,  and  the  droshky  rolled  over  the 
stones  of  the  courtyard  of  the  outer  fort, 
through  an  embrasure,  and,  after  several 
more  halts  and  salutes,  stopped  in  the  cen 
tral  courtyard. 

The  sergeant  who  was  in  charge  of  the 
guards  of  the  inner  court  evidently  recog 
nized  the  occupant  of  the  droshky  to  be  the 

136 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

chief  of  engineers,  for  he  clicked  his  heels 
together  sharply  and  saluted. 

The  false  Mobrikoff  saluted  the  sergeant 
in  return,  alighted  and  walked  past  the  line 
of  guards,  following  the  non-commissioned 
officer. 

"You  wish  to  see  M.  le  Colonel  Mebristi- 
wsky,  colonel?"  the  sergeant  had  asked. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  supposed  colonel, 
shortly.  He  still  spoke  in  the  hoarse  tone 
which  indicated  that  his  cold  affected  his 
throat  muscles  to  the  extent  of  preventing 
him  from  speaking  plainly. 

He  followed  the  sergeant  through  a  suc 
cession  of  passages,  and  waited  while  he 
knocked  on  the  door  of  the  room  which  held 
the  illustrious  presence  of  M.  le  Colonel  Me- 
bristiwsky,  governor  of  the  fort  of  St.  Basil. 

The  door  was  opened  by  an  orderly  and 
Norroy  passed  into  the  room. 

The  man  with  grizzled  hair  who  sat  at  the 
desk  in  the  middle  of  the  room  arose  on 
Norroy's  entrance  and  bade  him  the  usual 
good-morning. 

137 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"I  have  a  cold,  M.  Mebristiwsky,"  he  re 
plied,  in  answer  to  the  request  that  he  re 
move  his  cloak.  "I  fear  it  is  getting  close 
to  my  lungs." 

Norroy's  Russian  was  without  a  flaw,  but 
he  found  little  occasion  to  use  it  on  this  mis 
sion,  for  Mebristiwsky  conversed  with  him 
in  French,  as  is  usual  between  gentlemen  in 
Russia,  their  own  language  being  reserved 
more  for  the  purpose  of  speaking  to  infer 
iors.  After  several  inquiries  regarding 
some  matters  of  which  Norroy  knew  nothing, 
but  which  he  managed  to  answer  in  a  dis 
creet  manner  which  aroused  no  suspicion, 
the  secret  agent  asked  concerning  the 
American  prisoner. 

"He  is  violent,  as  usual,"  answered  the 
governor.  "He  swears  at  anyone  who  en 
ters  his  cell,  and  curses  the  Little  Father  in 
terms  which  would  shock  even  a  hardened 
roue  like  yourself." 

"I  wish  to  see  him  again,"  said  Norroy. 
cutting  the  governor's  peroration  short. 
The  governor,  frowning,  rang  for  the  order- 

13$ 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Take  the  Colonel  Mobrikoff  to  the  cell  of 
the  American." 

Norroy  followed  the  orderly,  seemingly 
into  the  bowels  of  the  earth.  A  lantern  was 
necessary  to  show  the  way,  and  they  plunged1 
into  dank,  evil-smelling  corridors  where  the 
lanterns  of  other  soldiers,  keeping  guard, 
bobbed  up  and  down  like  will-o'-the-wisps  in 
the  darkness.  Finally  the  orderly  asked  a 
question  of  one  of  the  guards,  and  a  huge  key 
was  fitted  into  a  lock,  a  bolt  shot  and  an  iron 
door  swung  open. 

"Here  is  the  lantern,  Colonel  Mobrikoff," 
said  the  orderly,  with  respect.  "Do  you 
wish  me  to  remain?" 

Norroy  replied  in  the  negative,  and  then 
addressed  the  guard:  "Close  the  door,  fel 
low.  I  have  something  to  say  to  the  prisoner 
in  private.  Close  the  door  and  bolt  it." 

The  guard  saluted  and  murmured  acquies 
cence.  Whereupon  the  iron  door  clanged 
to  again,  and  the  bolt  was  shot.  Norroy  lift 
ed  the  lantern,  and  its  light  fell  upon  a  mass 
of  straw  and  a  man  lying  with  Ms  back  £0 

139 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

the  door,  who  was  apparently  unconcerned 
at  his  entrance. 

"M'sieur  Gaylord,"  he  said,  in  French. 

The  prisoner  snarled:  "Is  that  you,  you 
frog-eyed  coyote?"  in  English;  then, 
remembering  that  Mobrikoff  did  not 
understand  that  tongue,  translated  it 
into  French— "Frog-eyed  son  of  a— a— a— 
loup-garou,"  he  finished,  desperately.  The 
insult  seemed  ineffective  in  the  tongue  of  the 
Gaul,  and  he  racked  his  brain  for  a  fitting 
addition. 

Torke  Norroy  wasted  little  time.  He 
walked  over  to  the  recumbent  man,  who  was 
now  glaring  at  him,  and  said  in  very  low 
tones,  and  in  English:  "Don't  be  surprised; 
don't  cry  out,  and  don't  make  any  sort  of 
a  noise.  I  am  not  Mobrikoff." 

The  man  stared  at  him  in  the  light  of  the 
lantern,  and  Norroy  had  a  chance  to  see  the 
hollow  eyes,  the  sunken  cheeks  and  the  wast 
ed  hands. 

< '  Not  Mobrikoff  «  "  he  gasped.  ' '  Not  Mo 
brikoff  ?  You  are  not ' ? 

140 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Norroy  seated  himself  on  the  rude  stool 
by  the  side  of  the  straw.  "I  received  your 
message,  Mr.  Gaylord.  I  have  come  to  get 
you  out  of  this.  Now,  please  don't  ask  any 
questions,  but  do  exactly  as  I  tell  you." 

Omitting  the  preliminaries,  Norroy  told 
him  of  the  capture  of  Mobrikoff,  and  the  way 
in  which  he  had  gained  entrance  to  St.  Basil. 
The  listener's  eyes  glowed  in  admiration, 
and  the  weary,  haggard  look  faded  from 
them. 

"We  must  waste  no  time,"  said  Norroy. 
"Take  off  those  clothes  of  yours  as  I  take  off 
mine."  He  spoke  in  a  whisper  and  immedi 
ately  proceeded  to  disrobe.  He  continued  to 
speak  while  in  the  process,  and  by  the  time 
they  had  exchanged  garments  the  whole 
scheme  was  perfectly  plain  to  Gaylord. 

Norroy  whisked  off  the  false  mustache 
and  wig  and  placed  them  on  Gaylord 's  face. 
Then  from  an  inner  pocket,  he  took  out  a 
make-up  box,  such  as  is  carried  by  those  of 
the  theatrical  profession,  and  by  the  dim 
light  of  the  lantern  proceeded  to  make  Gay- 

141 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

lord's  face  a  passable  imitation  of  the  Rus 
sian's  whose  uniform  he  now  wore. 

"  Speak  hoarsely,  as  though  you  have  a 
cold,  and  do  not  answer  any  questions  un 
less  forced  to  do  so— your  Russian  is  execra 
ble  and  your  French  is  worse.    It  will  not  be 
necessary  for  you  to  return  to  the  governor's 
room.    Simply  follow  the  orderly  out  of  this 
dungeon  to  the  upper  floors  and  then  tell  him 
to  lead  you  to  your  droshky.     Salute  each 
soldier  who  salutes  you.  When  you  enter  the 
droshky  simply  say  Hotel  d'  Angleterre,  and 
the  driver  will  take  you  there.    Dismiss  him 
when  you  reach  the  hotel,  and  send  up  one 
of  Mobrikoff's  cards  to  Miss  Moray.     She 
knows  who  you  are,  and  she  will  assist  you 
and  accompany  you.    The   grand   express 
leaves  for  Konigsberg  at  noon.   SHe  has  re 
served  berths  in  the  wagonlit  for  you  and 
for  herself.    Here  is  your  passport,  which  I 
secured  from  the  United  States  minister  be 
fore  leaving  Paris.    It  reads  for  Mr.  John 
Moray,  actor.    You  are  supposed  to  be  Miss 
Moray's  brother.    Wheji  you  arrive  in  Ko- 

142 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

nigsberg,  you  will  both  go  to  the  Hotel  Zu 
Hohenloe.  There  will  be  a  third  person  in 
the  party,  but  he  is  provided  with  a  comfort 
able  sleeping  apartment  in  a  trunk."  ' 

Gaylord  suddenly  burst  into  hysterical 
laughter  as  he  thought  of  his  arch-enemy 
cramped  within  the  confines  of  a  narrow 
box  and  forced  to  endure  a  railway  journey 
in  such  quarters.  Norroy  placed  his  hand 
over  Gaylord 's  mouth. 

" Don't  make  an  ass  of  yourself,"  he  said, 
roughly.  "The  rest  of  the  scheme  Miss  Mo 
ray  will  explain  to  you.  See  that  you  carry 
out  her  instructions,  for  my  life  may  de 
pend  on  it.  You  understand  ? ' ' 

"But  how  will  you  escape?"  demanded 
the  inventor.  "I  feel  like  a  cad,  leaving  you 
in  this  hole.  God !  if  you  knew- 

"Kest  easy,"  Norroy  assured  him.  "I 
am  no  Sidney  Carton.  This  is  not  a  ques 
tion  of  heroics.  I  have  my  orders  to  see 
that  you  are  free,  and  this  is  part  of  the 
carrying  out  of  them.  I  hope  to  see  you  in 
Washington  within  the  month."  He  raised 

143 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

His  voice  and  called  out  in  the  hoarse  tones 
which  he  had  assumed  for  the  part  of  Mo- 
brikoff.  "I  have  finished  with  the  prisoner. 
Open  the  door." 

Again  the  bolt  was  released  and  the  door 
creaked.  "Now  go,"  he  whispered  to  Gay- 
lord.  "And  be  cautious— very  cautious." 

Gaylord  pushed  up  the  collar  of  the  coat 
and  as  the  door  opened  passed  out.  Norroy 
heard  him  tell  the  orderly  to  lead  him  to  the 
courtyard. 

As  the  door  grated  back  to  its  former 
place,  and  Norroy  knew  that  now  he  was  a 
prisoner  in  a  Russian  dungeon,  it  would 
have  seemed  that  a  feeling  of  unquiet  would 
have  come  over  him.  But  Mr.  Yorke  Nor 
roy  only  laughed  softly,  as  was  his  wont,  and 
twirled  about  on  his  finger  the  seal  ring  of 
the  Count  Mobrikoff. 


144 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  PLIGHT  OF  THE  GOVERNOR. 

"You  took  great  risks,"  said  the  secretary 
gravely,  when  Norroy  had  proceeded  thus 
far  with  his  narrative. 

Norroy  waved  his  cigarette  airily.  '  '  Real 
ly,  I  think  you  overrate  my  modest  endeav 
ors,  Mr.  Secretary,"  he  replied.  "I  took  no 
risks  at  all,  strictly  speaking. ' '  He  straight 
ened  the  crescent  of  pearls  in  the  crimson 
scarf  which  he  wore,  and  crossed  his  legs, 
showing  a  pair  of  well-formed  ankles  in 
crimson  hose,  and  shapely  feet  shod  in  tan 
shoes.  He  was  attired  for  the  tennis  courts, 
carried  a  racquet  in  his  hand  and  wore  a  suit 
of  white  flannels.  He  was  seated  in  the  place 
where  his  conversations  with  the  secretary 
were  generally  held— in  that  gentleman's 
private  library. 

The  sun  streamed  through  the  bay  win 
dows  and  revealed  the  trees  in  the  grounds 

145 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

without  just  about  ready  to  open  their  buds 
in  the  warm  zephyr  of  a  beautiful  spring 
day.  It  was  just  a  month  since  Norroy  had 
taken  Gaylord's  place  in  the  Moscow  prison. 
"  However,  to  cut  the  story  rather  short— 
for  I  have  an  appointment  at  three  and  it 
only  lacks  twenty  minutes  of  that  at  the 
present  time— I  remained  in  that  cell  for 
that  day  and  night  and  well  into  the  next 
day.  By  that  time  I  was  quite  sure  that  Gay- 
lord  and  Miss  Hardesty  were  ensconced  in 
the  Zu  Hohenloe,  so  I  decided  that  it  was 
about  time  to  teach  M.  Mebristiwsky  that 
there  were  other  people  capable  of  playing 
a  high-handed  game  outside  of  his  imperial 
Russian  majesty's  domains.  Therefore  I 
kicked  up  an  infernal  racket  that  brought 
the  guard  in  with  blood  in  his  eye  and  a  de 
sire  to  murder  me.  I  told  him  that  I  wished 
to  see  the  governor  immediately.  You  see, 
it  was  the  day  for  the  second  knouting  of 
Gaylord,  and  I  had  no  desire  to  pose  as  a 
martyr  for  the  cause,  especially  after  having 
seen  Gaylord 's  back.  It  appears  that  the 

146 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

governor  had  given  instructions  that  if  Gay- 
lord  thought  better  of  being  knouted  he  was 
to  be  brought  into  his  worshipful  presence, 
so  into  that  presence  I  was  taken. 

"The  guard,  being  a  squat  Siberian  and 
as  devoid  of  intelligence  as  a  hedgehog, 
didn't  notice  any  difference  in  my  appear 
ance  and  that  of  Gaylord's— all  foreigners 
looking  alike  to  him,  I  suppose.  But  when 
I  was  put  before  M.  Mebristiwsky,  that 
gentleman's  face  was  a  study.  Finally  he 
managed  to  call  the  soldier  two  or  three 
things  which  I  wouldn't  care  to  translate  in 
to  English,  and  told  him  he  had  brought  the 
wrong  man.  I  presumed  it  was  about  time 
for  me  to  cut  in  then,  consequently  I  did. 
I  told  him  that  I  was  the  only  M.  Gaylord 
in  the  prison,  and  that  if  he  would  send 
away  his  soldiers  I  would  explain.  He  was 
rather  timorous,  so  he  had  my  hands  tied 
behind  my  back  and  then  told  the  soldiers  to 
leave  the  room. 

"It  didn't  take  me  very  long  to  explain  to 
M.  Mebristiwsky  exactly  how  the  trick  had 

147 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Keen  turned,  and  his  cheeks  got  flabby  and 
liis  complexion  an  ashy-gray.  I  told  him 
that  if  he  would  examine  the  index  finger  of 
my  right  hand,  he  would  see  M.  Mobrikoff  's 
seal  ring.  I  further  informed  him  that  M, 
[Mobrikoff  was  out  of  Russia,  and  that  he 
was  in  the  hands  of  my  confederates,  and 
closely  guarded  by  M.  Gaylord  himself. 

"  Deponent  further  saith  that  M.  Mobri 
koff  will  be  held  for  the  space  of  one  week. 
If,  at  the  end  of  that  time,  I  do  not  appear 
in  a  certain  city  outside  the  czar's  domains, 
there  will  be  one  Russian  nobleman  the  less 
in  the  Almanach  de  Gotha.  Also,  M.  Gay- 
lord  would  immediately  file  his  complaint 
against  the  Russian  Government  with  the 
United  States  minister  at  Berlin,  telling  the 
whole  story,  but  omitting  the  death  of  Mo 
brikoff.  Somehow,  this  method  of  reason 
ing  seemed  to  appeal  to  M.  Mebristiwsky." 

The  secretary  laughed.  "I  should  imagine 
that  it  would  have  influenced  him." 

"It  did,  and  there  were  rare  doings  about 
[the  fort  of  St.  Basil  for  some  time  after  that. 

148 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

I  assured  the  governor  tljat  I  was  a  gentle 
man  and  would  make  no  attempt  to  get  away 
if  my  hands  were  untied.  He  untied  them 
and  gave  me  some  vodka—  he  was  not  a  bad 
sort,  but  the  vodka  was.  Then  he  sent  out 
messengers  to  Moscow,  and  before  an  hour 
had  passed  I  became  the  center  of  an  as 
tounded  group  of  Russkis.  The  governor  of 
Moscow  was  there,  and  the  czar's  civil  ad 
ministrator  ;  also  the  Grand  Duke  Vladimir 
and  any  number  of  high  ranking  army  of 
ficers. 

"They  went  into  another  room  and  held 
a  consultation,  leaving  me  to  my  cigarettes 
and  vodka,  and  the  perusal  of  some  English 
magazines  lying  about.  At  the  end  of  a  lit 
tle  time  the  governor  entered.  It  had  evi 
dently  been  decided  that  I  had  the  whip 
hand. 

"The  governor  said  my  story  had  been  re 
ceived  with  great  surprise ;  that  it  was  news 
to  them  that  they  were  holding  an  American 
prisoner ;  that  M.  Mobrikoff  had  stated  that 
Gaylord  was  a  dangerous  Finnish  nihilist 

149 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

who  had  threatened  the  life  of  the  Little 
Father  of  all  the  Kussias ;  that  if  I  had  come 
to  them  and  told  them  the  story,  they  would 
have  released  Gaylord  and  disgraced  Mobri- 
koff.  It  was  a  beautiful  string  of  false 
hoods;  well-constructed  lies,  with  the  local 
color  all  correct  and  told  in  the  most  sincere 
manner. 

"The  governor  emphasized  the  love  which 
lay  between  the  countries  of  Russia  and  the 
United  States— sang  me  that  old  song  about 
Russia  having  saved  the  Union  during  the 
Civil  War  by  sending  her  fleet  to  protect  us. 
Hold  me  prisoner?  Why,  certainly  not. 
They  admired  my  courage  and  devotion  in 
rescuing  my  friend,  and  insinuated  that  I 
was  in  the  service  of  the  United  States.  I 
told  them  that  I  was  not ;  that  Gaylord  was 
my  cousin  and  that  I  was  an  actor  by  pro 
fession  ;  that  I  had  a  Russian  nurse  and  had 
learned  the  language  from  her;  my  name 
was  Harold  Mellin ;  in  fact,  I  handed  them 
just  as  intricate  a  tangle  of  untruths  as  they 
handed  me. 

150 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"The  governor  finished  by  saying  that  if 
Mobrikoff  were  killed  it  would  serve  him 
right;  and  that  if  my  companions  did  not 
harm  him  they  had  better  warn  him  not  to 
return  to  Russia,  for  if  he  did  so  he  would 
be  given  a  pleasant  assignment  in  Omsk  or 
thereabouts,  with  a  coal  pick  as  his  means 
of  sustenance.  Of  course  I  knew  all  this  was 
not  true,  and  that  Mobrikoff  would  not  be 
deprived  of  a  single  perquisite  of  his  rank 
and  station  unless  the  United  States  wanted 
revenge  and  a  scapegoat  was  needed. 

"Of  course  it  was  perfectly  plain  to  them 
that  they  lost  everything  and  gained  noth 
ing  by  keeping  me  a  prisoner,  or  by  harm 
ing  me  in  any  way.  They  wanted  Mobrikoff 
back,  and  they  didn't  want  the  United  States 
to  kick  up  any  shindy.  Now  that  they  had 
lost  the  secret  of  the  gun,  they  didn't  care 
anything  about  me. 

"To  cut  the  story  short"— Norroy  looked 
at  his  watch  and  replaced  it— "I  dined  that 
evening  with  the  whole  assortment  of  digni 
taries,  and  they  made  a  sweet  attempt  to  get 

151 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

me  drunk  and  let  loose  all  I  knew.  But, 
boasting  aside,  it  is  a  good  Russian  who  can 
take  more  of  the  fiery  liquor  than  I  can,  so 
that  failed.  After  dinner  we  went  to  a  ball 
at  the  Winter  Palace,  and  I  met  many  and 
various  pretty  women,  who  enticed  me  to 
drink  more.  However,  that  doesn't  matter. 

"The  next  morning,  to  the  sorrow  of  M. 
Mikhaelovitch,  I  gathered  up  the  three 
Broadway  show  girls  and  deposited  them  on 
the  express  for  Paris.  The  next  train  was 
for  Konigsberg,  and  that  I  took,  promising 
the  governor,  who  accompanied  me  to  the 
station  in  state,  that  M.  Mobrikoff  would  ar 
rive  in  Moscow  at  an  early  date. 

"Of  course  there  were  four  or  five  of  the 
governor's  spies  on  the  train,  and  they  had 
the  temerity  to  suppose  that  I  didn't  know 
them.  They  followed  me  to  the  hotel,  but 
fhey  learned  nothing. 

"Adelaide  Hardesty  and  Gaylord  were 
there,  Gaylord  under  the  name  of  Moray, 
and  Adelaide  also.  Gaylord  had  two  rooms, 
and  in  one  of  them  he  kept  that  big  trunk, 

152 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Adelaide  said  that  it  gave  Mm  great  pleas 
ure  to  go  in  there  and  talk  to  the  repentant 
Mobrikoff.  I  am  afraid  Gaylord  was  a  lit 
tle  cruel,  for  he  kept  Mobrikoff  bound  hand 
and  foot  all  the  time,  feeding  him  with  oats 
and  black  bread  only— prison  fare.  When 
I  arrived,  I  swear  I  think  the  beggar  was 
sorry,  for  I  fear  he  had  set  his  mind  on  dis 
patching  M.  Mobrikoff. 

"Of  course  I  had  given  my  word,  and 
that  ended  his  homicidal  schemes.  Mobri 
koff  was  given  a  plentiful  meal,  and  told  to 
eat  all  of  it  possible,  in  order  that  it  might 
last  him  for  three.  Then  we  packed  him 
neatly  into  his  box,  put  the  clothes  about 
him,  gagged  him,  locked  the  trunk,  and  I 
stenciled  on  it  in  large  letters:  'M.  Mebris- 
tiwsky,  governor  of  Port  St.  Basil,  Moscow, 
Kussia,'  and  in  red  ink  on  the  corner: 
'Game.  Perishable.  Open  at  once.'  " 

The  secretary  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh, 
and  Norroy  arose,  twirling  his  racquet.  "I 
should  like  to  have  seen  the  governor's 
face,"  the  secretary  remarked;  "and  to  have 

153 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

heard  what  Mobrikoff  said  when  he  was  un 
bound  and  ungagged." 

"Mr.  Secretary,"  said  Yorke  ISTorroy, 
"you  have  never  heard  a  Russian  when  he 
is  extremely  angry.  I  have.  Therefore,  as 
I  do  not  like  the  profane  and  the  vulgar,  I 
cannot  share  in  your  wish." 

The  secretary  stretched  out  his  hand. 
"Well,  play  your  tennis,  Yorke,"  he  said, 
paternally.  "You've  done  a  good  piece  of 
work.  I  thank  you.  Come  in  to-morrow  at 
five." 

Norroy's  eyes  had  in  them  a  glint  of  satis 
faction.  A  great  respect  and  friendship  ex 
isted  between  these  two  men. 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Secretary,"  said  Nor- 
roy.  "I  rather  think  you're  right.  But  you 
really  owe  me  no  thanks.  I  discovered  a 
marvelous  brand  of  cigarettes  in  a  little 
place  in  Moscow,  and  the  trip  was  worth 
while  just  for  that." 

He  offered  his  Chinese  case  to  the  secre 
tary,  who  shook  his  head.  Norroy  lighted 
one  himself,  drew  on  Jiis  gloves,  caught  the 

154 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

racquet  in  Ms  left  hand,  and  bade  the  secre 
tary  good-afternoon. 


155 


The  Isle  of  St.  Anthony 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  WITS  OF  MISS  HONORA  NUGENT. 

"And  so,"  concluded  the  secretary  of 
state,  "the  plans  of  the  defenses  of  New 
York  harbor  came  into  her  possession." 

Yorke  Norroy  smiled  wearily  and  drew  on 
one  of  his  gloves.  The  secretary's  story  had 
been  very  long  drawn-out,  and  it  contained 
nothing  that  particularly  interested  the  dip 
lomatic  agent. 

"The  affair  seems  to  be  simple  enough," 
he  remarked,  as  he  buttoned  the  glove.  "If 
the  woman  has  the  plans,  she  should  be  ar 
rested  and  searched  —  or  her  luggage 
searched  beforehand  and  the  arrest  follow 
ing." 

"But  that  has   already  been   done— the 

157 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

searching,  I  mean,"  returned  the  secretary. 
"You  hardly  suppose  that  such  a  simple  so 
lution  would  not  have  been  tried  long  ago, 
do  you?  As  soon  as  Captain  Riener  report 
ed  the  affair,  he  was  suspended  from  the 
service,  and  a  board  of  engineer  officers  are 
now  considering  his  case,  preparatory  to 
court-martial.  This  was  done  with  the  most 
profound  secrecy,  in  order  that  she  should 
have  no  wind  of  it.  Then  secret  agents  en 
tered  her  apartments  while  she  was  away, 
opened  trunks,  bags,  boxes  and  everything 
in  sight,  but  nothing  was  discovered.  Not 
only  once  was  this  done— four  men  have 
been  detailed  on  it  at  different  times,  but 
not  a  trace  of  the  papers  was  discovered. 
Not  only  that,  but  they  found  no  shred  of 
evidence  that  would  connect  her  with  the 
Russian  secret  service." 

"Then  I  suppose  that,  while  you  have 
been  deliberating,  the  woman  went  to  the 
Russian  embassy  and  delivered  the  plans  to 
the  minister?"  suggested  Norroy. 

".Wrong  again,"  returned  the  secretary. 

158 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"She  has  been  kept  under  constant  surveil 
lance  ever  since  she  has  been  in  Washington, 
and  not  once  has  she  gone  to  the  embassy  or 
met  the  Russian  minister  secretly.  Nor  has 
she  been  in  conversation  with  him  long 
enough  at  any  time  to  hold  a  consultation. 
In  fact,"  added  the  secretary,  lighting  his 
cigar,  "I  doubt  if  the  Russian  minister  is 
aware  of  the  fact  that  Miss  Nugent  is  in  the 
employ  of  his  government." 

"Let  me  see,"  deliberated  Norroy 
thoughtfully.  "According  to  what  you  have 
told  me,  the  papers  have  been  in  Miss  Nu 
gent 's  possession  for  two  weeks.  Why 
hasn't  she  left  the  United  States?" 

The  secretary  smiled.  "We  have  seen  to 
that,"  he  returned.  "You  have  one  failing, 
Norroy.  You  imagine  that  you  are  the  only 
man  in  the  state  department  who  takes  pre 
cautions.  Word  has  been  sent  to  all  the 
steamship  offices  to  refuse  her  passage  out 
of  the  United  States.  This  is  easily  done,  by 
telling  her  that  there  is  no  room.  She  has 
made  six  attempts  to  buy  tickets  for  dif- 

159 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

f  erent  points  of  Europe,  and  every  attempt 
has  f  ailed. " 

"She  knows,  then,  that  the  government 
has  taken  a  hand,"  interposed  Norroy, 
drawing  his  cigarette  case  from  his  pocket 
and  tapping  upon  it  with  his  slender,  al 
most  womanish  fingers. 

"If  she  has  wits  enough  to  fool  the  engi 
neer  corps  of  the  army,  she  certainly  has 
wits  enough  for  that.  Which  is  proven  by 
the  fact  that  she  has  gotten  around  our  pre 
cautions." 

Norroy  waited  for  an  explanation. 

"Of  course  you  know  that  Miss  Nugent 
is  related  to  several  families  in  Ireland  who 
stand  high  at  the  Court  of  St.  James,  and 
if  she  were  arrested  and  nothing  proven, 
there  would  be  a  great  stir  across  the  water, 
and  the  British  ambassador  would  pay  me 
a  formal  visit  and  read  me  a  little  mono 
graph  on  the  rights  of  British  subjects— for 
she  is  one.  Now,  although  Captain  Eiener 
is  quite  sure  she  has  the  plans,  he  cannot 
prove  that  she  took  them,  nor  can  we  prove 

160 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

that  she  has  them  now.  If  she  were  arrest 
ed,  she  would  manage  to  get  away  with  them 
in  some  manner,  and  then  it  would  be  neces 
sary  for  the  United  States  to  make  an  apol 
ogy  to  Great  Britain.  Also,  Miss  Nugent 
would  sue  for  large  damages,  a,nd  the  yellow 
press  would  have  something  to  fill  their  col 
umns  for  a  week.  >  The  affair  would  place 
the  United  States  in  an  extremely  ridiculous 
light." 

A  shadow  of  a  smile  played  around  Nor- 
roy's  thin  lips,  as  he  extracted  a  crested 
cigarette  from  his  case,  decorated  with  gold 
en  Chinese  dragons.  He  rolled  the  paper 
tube  gently  between  his  fingers. 

"It  seems  to  me  that  this  does  look  like 
something  in  my  line,  after  all,"  he  said, 
striking  a  wax  match  and  igniting  the  ciga 
rette. 

"Oh,  you  begin  to  think  so,  eh?"  queried 
the  secretary,  with  much  sarcasm.  Norroy's 
wearied  expressions  and  looks  of  boredom 
frequently  irritated  the  head  of  the  state  de 
partment.  "Perhaps  you  will  find  the  affair 

161 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

a  little  more  complicated  than  you  think. 
Miss  Nugent  sails  from  New  York  in  three 
days!" 

" Didn't  I  understand  you  to  say  that  you 
had  made  it  impossible  for  her  to  buy 
tickets?"  asked  Norroy,  looking  inquiringly 
at  the  secretary. 

"  Exactly.  But  Philippse  Van  Eeypen 
doesn't  sell  tickets  for  private  yachting 
trips  on  his  own  yacht,  the  Sylph,"  returned 
the  secretary,  with  emphasis. 

"So  she  has  procured  an  invitation,  has 
she?"  Norroy  looked  on  the  point  of  really 
laughing  this  time.  "Well,  that's  rather 
clever  of  her,  isn't  it?  It  is  hardly  the  eas 
iest  thing  in  the  world  for  anyone  to  get  an 
invitation  from  Polly  Van  Eeypen.  I  won 
der  how  Miss  Nugent  managed  it  ?— through 
Phil,  I  daresay." 

"You  know  where  the  yacht  is  going, 
don't  you?"  asked  Norroy 's  chief. 

"Bound  for  Key  West  first,  then  across 
to  the  Azores  and  Madeira,  so  some  one  told 


me.'; 


162 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"  Quite  right.  Miss  Nugent  will  be  aboard. 
She  will  likely  leave  them  at  the  Azores— 
and  where  will  the  plans  go  ?" 

"To  that  most  excellent  gentleman,  the 
czar,  I  presume,"  answered  Norroy. 

"You  seem  to  look  at  the  matter  in  a  hu 
morous  light,"  said  the  secretary,  sharply. 
"Do  you  realize  that  for  the  plans  of  New 
York  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  any  foreign 
power  is  an  extremely  serious  thing?" 

"Naturally,  Mr.  Secretary,"  returned 
Norroy,  calmly.  "But  it  is  quite  amusing 
to  think  that  a  blue-eyed  Irish  girl  like  this 
little  Nugent  should  have  so  thoroughly  up 
set  the  heads  of  the  department  chiefs.  The 
secretary  of  war  was  almost  wild  when  he 
told  me  about  it;  and  you— well,  you're  al 
ways  the  same,  Mr.  Secretary,  but  I  can  tell 
by  that  look  in  your  eye  that  you  regard  this 
affair  in  a  manner  far  from  calm." 

"Quite  right,  I  do,  and  I  can  hardly  see 
how  it  is  that  anyone  who  has  the  welfare  of 
his  country  at  heart  could  do  otherwise.  It 
is  impossible  to  arrest  this  woman,  and  we 

163 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

cannot  tell  PMlippse  Van  Eeypen  that  lie 
must  not  take  her,  so,  unless  something  is 
quickly  done,  those  papers  will  become  the 
property  of  the  czar  in  just  about  two 
weeks." 

Norroy  drummed  thoughtfully  on  the 
table  near  by  with  his  slender  fingers.  His 
eyes  bespoke  concentration  of  thought* 
Finally  he  said: 

"To  epitomize  the  situation,  Mr.  Secre 
tary:  Miss  Nugent  carries  these  plans  on 
her  person.  She  is  going  yachting  with  Van 
Eeypen.  Legally,  we  cannot  prevent  her 
from  leaving  the  United  States—— " 

"Ah— er— openly  would  be  a  better 
word,"  corrected  the  secretary. 

"  Openly,  we  cannot  prevent  her  from 
leaving  the  United  States  and  taking  the 
papers  in  question  to  Europe.  That  is  the 
problem,  isn't  it?" 

The  secretary  nodded  affirmatively.  "And 
the  solution?" 

"I  don't  know.  It  is  rather  a  difficult 
knot  to  untie,  and— openly— we  can't  cut  it. 

164 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 


It  seems  to  be  imperative  that  I  go  with  the 
Van  Keypens  on  their  yachting  trip." 

"That  is  the  first  step,  but  afterward?" 

Norroy  arose  and  drew  on  the  other  glove. 
He  twirled  his  swagger  stick  and  studied  a 
life-sized  portrait  of  the  President  which 
hung  in  the  corner. 

"Afterward— well,  I'll  have  to  think  the 
thing  over  a  bit.  While  I  am  cogitating,  I 
will  procure  the  invitation  to  the  trip.  My 
sister  is  a  friend  of  Polly  Van  Reypen,  and 
I  know  Phil.  So  I  don't  think  that  will  be 
difficult.  You  say  they  sail  in  three  days? 
I  will  consult  with  you  again  before  that.  I 
go  to  New  York  on  the  two  o'clock  limited 
and  will  see  Van  Reypen.  Good-morning, 
Mr.  Secretary." 

The  two  days  following  the  conversation 
brought  no  news  from  Norroy,  but  the  sec 
ond  night  found  that  gentleman  sitting  in 
the  private  library  of  the  secretary's  Con 
necticut  Avenue  residence.  Within  a  few 
moments  after  the  footman  had  announced 
the  secret  agent's  presence,  the  head  of  the 

165 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

state  department  entered  and  greeted  him 
expectantly. 

"Yes,  I  have  the  invitation,"  was  Nor- 
roy's  answer  to  the  other's  unspoken  ques 
tion.  "I  followed  Philippse  Van  Eeypen 
from  club  to  club  in  Manhattan,  and  finally 
out  to  Tuxedo.  Of  course,  I  didn't  ask  out 
right  for  the  bid,  but  I  impressed  on  him 
that  I  was  at  a  loss  as  to  how  to  get  to  St. 
Anthony " 

"To  St.  Anthony?"  repeated  the  secre 
tary,  mystified.  "Why  St.  Anthony?  What 
St.  Anthony?" 

Norroy  smiled  deprecatingly.  "Pardon 
my  omission,  Mr.  Secretary.  I  am  telling 
the  story  like  a  newspaper— results  first.  St. 
Anthony  is  a  little  island  of  the  Bahamas, 
and  was  used  once  by  a  number  of  New  York 
men  for  a  hunting  rendezvous.  But  the 
club  broke  up  and  the  cabins  were  aban 
doned.  The  island  is  now  unpopulated.  It  is 
still  the  property  of  the  club,  and  no  one  is 
allowed  to  settle  there,  even  if  they  should 
wish  to— but  I  doubt  their  wishes." 

166 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"I  don't  follow  you,"  interrupted  the  sec 
retary,  sharply.  "The  New  York  hunting 
club  is  certainly  irrelevant  to  the  case  upon 
which  I  imagined  you  were  working." 

"Just  a  moment,  please.  St.  Anthony  is 
directly  in  the  route  which  the  yacht  must 
take  to  get  to  Key  West.  As  I  said  before, 
there  is  no  one  on  the  island.  Now,  Carson 
Huntley  is  a  member  of  the  club  which  owns 
the  island,  and  he  has  a  perfect  right  to  use 
it  as  he  wishes " 

"Do  you  mean  the  Carson  Huntley  who 
was  taken  into  the  service  on  your  recom 
mendation?" 

Norroy  nodded.  "Now,  it  would  be  quite 
probable  that  Huntley  might  take  a  fancy; 
to  run  over  to  St.  Anthony  and  spend  the 
summer.  Since  his  money  disappeared,  he 
cannot  afford  Newport  and  Narragansett. 
As  I  am  Huntley 's  friend,  what  more  na 
tural  than  that  he  should  invite  me  to  spend 
the  time  with  him?  And,  having  accepted 
the  invitation,  I  naturally  wish  tb  get  to  St. 
Anthony.  No  vessels  stop  there.  .Why  can- 

167 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

not  Philippse  Van  Reypen  go  a  few  hours 
out  of  Ms  course  and  land  me  on  St.  An 
thony?" 

The  secretary  eyed  him  searchingly  and 
nodded  approval. 

"Well,  that  is  what  I  told  Van  Eeypen, 
and  he  was  very  glad  to  have  me —so  he  said. 
He  will  drop  me  at  St.  Anthony  if  I  so  wish, 
but  he  assures  me  that  I  am  welcome  to  make 
the  whole  trip  with  him,  if  I  will.  I,  on  the 
other  hand,  gave  him  an  urgent  invitation— 
in  Huntley 's  name— to  inspect  the  island 
and  enjoy  the  hospitality  of  the  lodge  for  a 
few  hours.  He  has  accepted." 

"  Therefore,  it  will  be  necessary  to  send 
Huntley  there  without  delay,"  interjected 
the  secretary. 

"  Quite  so.  It  will  take  the  yacht  three 
days  to  make  St.  Anthony.  Huntley  and 
three  minor  agents  can  make  a  quick  pas 
sage  to  Savannah  on  the  railroad,  leaving 
to-night,  I  should  suggest.  You  will  give  him 
an  order  on  the  revenue  service  at  Savannah 
to  use  the  cutter  to  take  him  to  St.  Anthony 

168 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

immediately.  He  will  purchase  whatever  he 
needs  in  the  way  of  provisions,  etc.,  and,  on 
reaching  St.  Anthony,  fix  the  old  lodge  up 
so  as  to  look  as  though  it  were  fit  to  live  in. 
He  will  have  a  day  and  a  half  start  of  the 
Sylph." 

Norroy  lowered  his  voice,  and  the  further 
conversation  that  passed  between  him  and 
the  secretary  would  have  been  inaudible 
even  to  a  person  in  close  proximity.  Several 
times  the  secretary's  face  showed  signs  of 
intense  amusement,  and  he  gave  vent  to 
several  short  laughs.  Norroy  extracted  a 
cigarette  and  lighted  it  deftly.  The  impor 
tant  part  of  the  affair  had  plainly  been  out 
lined,  for  he  allowed  his  voice  to  take  its 
usual  conversational  height. 

"Huntley  is  a  clever  fellow,  and  can  act 
the  part.  I  should  advise  the  selection  of 
Turner,  Hillman,  Jardine  and  Miss  Hard- 
esty  for  the  others.  They  are  all  at  leisure 
at  the  present  time,  and  all  in  Washington 
or  near  by." 

"Not  Jardine,"  amended  the   secretary. 

169 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"He  is  in  New  Orleans.  I  think  Matheson 
will  do  as  well,  however." 

"Yes,  Matheson  is  a  good  man,"  was  Nor- 
roy's  agreement.  "And  when  Huntley  has 
trained  them  a  little,  I  imagine  the  four  will 
play  their  parts  successfully.  I  am  going 
to  see  Huntley  now.  I  wired  him  from  New 
York  to  be  at  my  apartment  here  at  eight 
o  'clock.  Shall  I  then  send  him  to  you  ? ' ' 

The  secretary  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"The  idea  sounds  well,"  he  said,  judicial 
ly,  "and  should  be  carried  out.  I  will  at 
tend  to  this  end  of  it.  When  do  you  leave 
Washington?" 

"On  the  midnight  sleeper.  The  Sylph 
sails  from  Tompkinsville  to-morrow  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  I  have  some 
few  things  to  attend  to  before  she  sails." 

He  adjusted  a  slight  flare  in  the  bosom  of 
his  spotless  dress  shirt  and  sprang  open  his 
opera  hat.  Then,  lighting  another  cigarette, 
he  bade  the  secretary  good-night. 


170 


CHAPTER  II. 

ON  BOARD  THE  " SYLPH." 

Miss  Honora  Nugent,  Irish  and  very 
pretty,  was  the  type  of  woman  which  is  most 
calculated  to  disturb  the  mental  poise  of  a 
man  and  cause  him  to  do  strange  things. 
Captain  Theodore  H.  Eiener,  U.  S.  A.,  was 
one  of  the  men  who  had  fallen  under  her 
many  witcheries,  with  the  result  that  Cap 
tain  Riener  was  at  that  time  going  through 
the  painful  ordeal  of  a  court-martial,  while 
Miss  Honora  Nugent  carried  a  precious 
packet  of  papers  on  her  person. 

She  had  black  hair  and  very  blue  eyes- 
eyes  that  appealed  and  besought.  Her 
whole  charm  lay  in  her  complete  womanli 
ness.  She  was  slender  and  graceful,  petite 
in  figure  and  soft  of  voice.  She  was  not 
the  kind  of  woman  who  plays  golf  or  is 
athletic  in  any  way,  but  who  is  most  in  her 
element  in  a  dark  corner  of  a  porch  or  con- 

171 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

servatory,  in  evening  dress,  with  soft,  vel 
vety  arms  showing  pink  and  white  in  the 
half-light  and  enticing  a  man  to  any  action 
which  will  win  her  to  that  frame  of  mind 
where  the  aforesaid  velvety  arms  will  be 
twined  about  his  manly  neck. 

Miss  Nugent  ruled  through  utter  subjec- 
tiveness.  When  in  her  presence,  a  man  was 
filled  with  his  own  importance  and  a  desire 
to  protect  this  frail,  clinging  creature  from 
the  rebuffs  of  the  rude  world.  She  seemed 
out  of  place  on  a  tennis  court  or  a  golf  links. 
She  appealed  to  men  in  the  way  that  a  wom 
an  appeals  to  the  Turkish  mind— she  should 
be  kept  in  a  place  where  splashing  fountains 
made  music,  costly  rugs  adorned  the  floors, 
and  velvet  hangings  and  soft  lights  complet 
ed  the  picture. 

How  much  of  this  impression  was  natural 
and  how  much  of  it  was  caused  by  Miss 
Honora  Nugent 's  clever  acting  is  not  quite 
determinable.  She  did  not  alter  her  pose 
when  in  the  presence  of  those  who  employed 
her,  and  refused  to  discuss  any  subject  which 

172 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

might  not,  with  all  propriety,  be  introduced 
between  man  and  woman.  The  heads  of 
Russia's  secret  service  made  no  pretense  at 
understanding  her,  and  were  always  as 
courteous  and  deferential  in  her  presence  as 
they  would  have  been  in  that  of  a  grand 
duchess.  For  Honora  Nugent  was  very  val 
uable  to  them  when  Anglo-Saxon  secrets 
were  to  be  ferreted  out,  and,  save  for  one  or 
two  minor  affairs,  she  had  always  carried 
out  her  missions  successfully.  Her  birth 
gave  her  the  entree  into  the  fashionable 
worlds  of  England  and  America,  and  the 
rest  was  accomplished  through  her  seductive 
charm. 

But,  withal,  Miss  Nugent  was.  as  may  be 
imagined,  worldly-wise  in  the  strongest  sense 
of  the  word,  and  she  almost  feared  at  one 
time  that  this  last  affair  of  hers  was  a  little 
more  than  she  could  carry  through.  After 
the  papers  had  come  into  her  possession,  the 
transferring  of  them  to  those  to  whom  they 
would  be  invaluable  was  a  far  more  difficult 
task  than  she  imagined. 

173 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

She  was  perfectly  well  aware  of  the  fact 
that  the  United  States  Government  knew  the 
plans  were  in  her  possession,  and  she  knew, 
further,  that  they  had  no  means  of  proving 
it.  She  made  no  complaints  when  her  lug 
gage  was  searched,  for  she  had  expected  this 
move,  and  the  plans  had  never  left  her  per 
son.  She  understood  the  reason  for  the 
steamship  companies'  inability  to  sell  her  a 
jticket  to  any  European  port. 

In  this  juncture  had  come  Tommy  Sitcell, 
who  had  spent  a  small  fortune  on  her  in  the 
shape  of  flowers,  opera  boxes  and  candy. 
Tommy  Sitcell  was  one  of  the  guests  of  Van 
Eeypen  in  the  coming  voyage  of  the  Sylph. 
Miss  Nugent  had  discovered  this,  and  she 
went  out  of  her  way  to  attend  an  afternoon 
tea  at  which  she  was  sure  Tommy  Sitcell 
would  be.  It  was  not  hard  to  turn  the  con 
versation  in  such  a  way  that  Tommy  would 
proffer  his  services  in  the  way  of  procuring 
a  bid  for  Miss  Nugent.  The  Van  Eeypens 
knew  her,  and  Phil  Van  Reypen,  as  all  men, 
more  than  liked  the  little  Irish  lady.  He 

174 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

asked  Mrs.  Van  Reypen  to  call  on  her  at  her 
apartments  near  Central  Park,  and  Mrs. 
Van  Reypen,  being  an  obedient  wife,  did  so. 
At  first  Miss  Nugent  would  not  think  of  it 
—it  was  too  late— all  their  plans  were  ar 
ranged— and— but  what  a  trip  it  would  be! 
(A  sigh.)  Mrs.  Van  Reypen  insisted  be 
cause  she  knew  her  husband  would  accuse 
her  of  a  cold  invitation  if  Miss  Nugent  re 
fused  acceptance.  In  view  of  the  insistence, 
Miss  Nugent  accepted. 

"It  was  really  very  fortunate,"  argued 
Philippse  Van  Reypen,  the  day  before  sail 
ing,  "that  I  met  Yorke  Norroy.  That  Nu 
gent  girl  will  make  an  odd  pair  and  leave 
Dolly  Banks  to  herself —for  I  intended  her 
for  Tommy.  Now  Yorke  can  take  her— if 
he  will.  But  I  rather  think  he'll  be  able  to 
make  his  pick." 

By  four  o'clock  of  the  day  after  Norroy 's 
second  conversation  wJLth  .the  head  of  the 
state  department,  the  seven  guests  and  their 
host  and  hostess  had  embarked  on  the  Sylph 
and  were  lounging  about  the  deck  or  sitting 

175 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

in  steamer  cKairs,  gazing  at  the  sky-scrapers 
of  their  beloved  city,  which  they  were  leav 
ing  for  several  months.  Philippse  Van  Rey- 
pen  had  not  informed  them  regarding  the 
belated  invitation,  and  his  wife,  noting  the 
time  of  day,  requested  to  be  informed  as  to 
why  the  yacht  was  being  held. 

"For  our  last  guest,  dear,"  returned  Van 
Eeypen.  "And,  if  I  am  not  greatly  in  the 
wrong,  here  he  comes  now." 

He  pointed  to  a  small  steam  launch  which 
was  bearing  down  on  the  yacht.  "He  is  a 
friend  of  yours,  Polly,"  said  Van  Reypen— 
"Yorke  Norroy." 

"Yorke  Norroy— impossible!  Really,  is 
it,  Phil?  Lend  me  your  glasses."  She  took 
the  binoculars  from  her  husband  and  gazed 
at  the  oncoming  boat.  "It  is  Yorke  Nor 
roy,"  she  said,  with  a  gratified  smile.  Archie 
Vanderness  scowled. 

"I  wonder  what  makes  that  man  popu 
lar?"  he  desired  to  be  informed  from  Miss 
Page  Oarewe. 

"Because  he  is  a  man,"  answered  Miss 

176 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Carewe.  "You  feel  that  you  can  rely  on 
Yorke,  somehow.  Other  men ': 

She  eyed  Mr.  Vanderness,  who  had  once 
stood  on  a  pier  while  a  woman  nearly 
drowned  before  his  eyes.  His  excuse  was 
that  he  couldn't  swim. 

"I'm  glad  you  feel  that  way  about  him," 
he  commented.  "But  it's  my  private  opin 
ion Well,  never  mind.  But  what  hap 
pens  to  him  when  he  is  away  from  civiliza 
tion?  That's  what  I  should  like  to  know." 

"Then  you'd  better  ask  him,"  suggested 
Mrs.  Van  Eeypen,  who  had  overheard. 
"See,  the  launch  is  touching." 

"Who  is  he,  Mr.  Sitcell?"  asked  Honora 
Nugent.  "The  Washington  man— cotillion 
leader?  Nbrroy— - yes,  that's  the  name." 

"Yes,  that's  the  chap,"  returned  Sitcell. 
"He's  rather  a  queer  sort.  Seems  a  sort  of 
an  ass  sometimes,  but  has  some  clever  ideas 
about  acting  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  He's 
a  Baltimorean,  really.  There  he  is." 

A  slim,  erect  figure  in  white  flannel  trous 
ers,  serge  coat  and  white-peaked  yachting 

177 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

cap  came  in  view  at  the  head  of  the  accom 
modation  ladder,  and,  on  seeing  the  group  on 
the  boat  deck,  Norroy  walked  up  and  re 
moved  his  cap,  showing  his  well-groomed, 
light  hair.  He  had  that  type  of  face  that  de 
notes  the  man  who  rules— high  cheek  bones, 
prominent  chin  and  obstinate  jaw.  His  eyes 
were  large  and  of  no  definite  color,  but  there 
was  a  hardness,  a  steeliness,  about  them  that 
was  not  altogether  pleasant.  He  smiled  and 
greeted  the  folks  he  knew. 

"I  asked  Ethel,  you  know,"  Mrs.  Van 
Eeypen  informed  him,  referring  to  Norroy 's 
sister,  "but  she  had  something  on.  She 
didn't  say  a  word  about  your  coming.  If  I 
had  known " 

"I  didn't  know,  myself,  Polly,"  said  Nor 
roy.  "It  wrasn't  until  Carson  Huntley  pro 
posed  this  St.  Anthony  affair  that " 

"Carson  Huntley?"  repeated  Mrs.  Van 
Eeypen,  and  several  of  that  gentleman's  ac 
quaintances  in  the  group  echoed  the  name. 
"Where  is  he?" 

"Oh,  haven't  you  told  them,  Phil?'5 

178 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Van  Keypen  shook  his  head.  "Clean  for 
got  it,  Yorke,"  he  replied. 

"Why,  Carson's  gone  to  St.  Anthony  for 
the  summer.  You  remember  the  little  is 
land  where  we  used  to  have  our  gun  club,  un 
til  the  club  got  broken  up?  There's  no  one 
there  now,  and  Carson  seems  to  be  looking 
for  solitude,  so  he's  gone  there  to  spend  the 
summer.  He  invited  me  to  join  him,  but 
neglected  to  send  a  boat,  so  Phil  has  consent 
ed  to  drop  me  off.  I  invited  you  all  to  stop 
off  with  me,  and  Phil  accepted.  Now,  in 
dividually " 

"What  is  there  to  see  at  St.  Anthony?" 
put  in  Vanderness,  who  had  been  a  member 
of  the  club.  *  <  I  think ' ' 

"Never  mind  what  you  think,  Archie," 
interrupted  Page  Carewe  in  an  aside.  Mr. 
Vanderness  stared  at  her  sullenly. 

"Why,  yes;  we'll  be  glad  to  see  Carson 
again,  won't  we,  Phil?"  said  Mrs.  Van  Bey- 
pen,  "  He 's  dropped  out  of  sight  for  the  last 
year  or  so.  And  I  understand  that  St.  An 
thony  is  an  ideal  little  place." 

179 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"It  is  rather— except  for  the  solitude." 

Polly  Van  Keypen  suddenly  remembered 
that  Norroy  did  not  know  Honora  Nugent, 
and  without  more  ado  she  presented  him. 
The  entire  party  remained  on  deck  until  the 
Statue  of  Liberty  faded  from  view,  and  then 
went  below  to  prepare  for  dinner. 

"Who  is  this  Miss  Nugent?"  inquired 
Norroy  of  his  hostess,  as  they  descended  to 
the  saloon  deck. 

"Related  to  the  Wicklows,  I  think  Tommy 
said,  and  she  is,  too ;  there's  no  doubt  of  that. 
She's  rather  a  pretty  girl,  isn't  she ?  But  so 
doll-like.  I  should  think  she  would  grow 
tiresome  after  a  while."  She  spoke  in  con 
fidence  to  Norroy,  as  he  had  the  reputation 
of  a  man  who  never  repeated. 

"You  think  sol"  he  inquired. 

"Yes.  She's  unoriginal— and  she  says  so 
little,  and  what  she  does  say  is  so  common 
place.  Like  a  British  girl— hide-bound 
with  convention.  An  awful  wearying  thing 
to  dress  for  dinner  on  shipboard,  isn't  it?" 
she  entered  her  stateroom,  Yorke  Nor- 

180 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

roy  smiled  rather  broadly. 

"Doll-like,  is  she?  Unoriginal?  Tire 
some?"  Then  he  did  something  very  rare 
for  him.  He  laughed  heartily. 

" And  that's  the  whole  secret,''  he  meditat 
ed.  " She's  intensely  feminine.  She  makes 
asses  out  of  the  men,  and  keeps  the  regard 
of  the  women  by  appearing  to  be  a  f  oeman 
unworthy  of  their  steel."  He  shook  his 
head  sagely.  "  She  is  undoubtedly  a  wonder ! 
Undoubtedly!" 


181 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  "MALO  HOMBKES"  OF  ST.  ANTHONY. 

While  the  yachting  party  sat  at  break 
fast  on  the  third  day  out,  Holmes,  the  third 
officer  of  the  Sylph,  entered  the  dining  sa 
loon  to  inform  Mr.  Van  Eeypen  that  St. 
Anthony  had  been  sighted. 

"The  skipper  doesn't  know  the  island, 
sir,"  he  said,  "and  he's  going  entirely  by 
chart.  There  are  no  anchorages  on  the  chart, 
for  St.  Anthony  isn't  a  stopping  place  for 
vessels  of  any  draught." 

Norroy  swallowed  his  coffee  and  ate  his 
last  portion  of  roll  and  marmalade.  "Van- 
derness  knows  the  island,  and  so  do  I.  The 
best  anchorage  is  on  the  southeast  side,  on  a 
line  with  the  little  peak,  isn't  it,  Archie?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Vanderness;  "it's  a  very 
inconvenient  place  to  anchor,  though.  The 
lodge  is  two  miles  inland." 

"I  don't  think  any  of  us  will  mind  a  couple 

182 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

of  miles  after  two  days  and  a  half  on  ship 
board,  ' '  put  in  Polly  Van  Reypen.  Her  hus 
band  told  Holmes  to  change  the  ship's  bear 
ings  in  order  to  make  the  anchorage  sug 
gested,  and,  when  Holmes  had  gone,  turned 
to  JTorroy.  "I  wonder  if  Carson  11  be  down 
to  meet  us." 

"  He  will  if  he  sights  the  yacht,"  answered 
Norroy .  ' '  But  that  I  very  much  doubt,  as  he 
is  a  late  riser,  and,  besides,  the  lodge  is  so 
situated  that  the  southeast  side  isn't  visible 
from  it." 

"But  you  know  the  way,  don't  you?" 
asked  Page  Carewe  of  Archie  Vanderness. 

' '  Rather ! "  he  replied.  ' '  And  so  does  Nor- 
roy.  Oh,  there's  no  fear  of  being  lost.  But 
it's  a  climb!" 

Yorke  Norroy  went  on  deck  and  to  the 
bridge,  to  assist  the  navigating  officer  in  lo 
cating  the  anchorage.  St.  Anthony  now 
loomed  before  them,  green  and  gold  in  the 
morning  sunlight,  a  veritable  emerald  of  the 
sea,  set  down  amid  a  vast  expanse  of  tur 
quoise  blue  water  and  gleaming,  white  sand. 

183 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

As  the  vessel  slowed  down  and  began  to  run 
counter  to  the  current,  the  water  became 
transparent,  and  the  shells  and  stones  at  the 
bottom  could  be  as  plainly  discerned  as 
though  there  were  no  water  covering  them. 
It  was  growing  a  trifle  warm,  and  those  who 
had  not  previously  done  so  went  to  their 
staterooms  and  emerged  in  white  ducks  and 
drills,  Ihe  men  bringing  out  their  Panama 
hats  and  pith  helmets  and  the  women  similar 
headgear  with  masses  of  white  drapery  at 
tached. 

Norroy  left  the  bridge  for  the  boat  deck 
and  sat  down  next  to  Miss  Nugent,  who 
looked  a  veritable  angel  of  a  Raphael  paint 
ing  in  her  immaculate  and  shining  white,  one 
tiny  foot,  canvas-shod  and  with  ankle  white- 
hosed,  peeping  out  from  quantities  of  white 
skirts  and  lingerie.  Her  blue  eyes  had  a 
sweet  glance  in  them  for  him,  and  her  little, 
even  teeth  showed  in  a  smile  when  he  said 
something  intended  to  amuse  her.  Norroy 
had  grown  rather  fond  of  the  little  Irish  girl 
since  his  coming  aboard  the  vessel,  and, 

184 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

much  to  the  disgust  of  Tommy  Sitcell,  had 
taken  up  more  than  "his  share  of  her  time. 
But  Norroy  ?s  regard  was  perfectly  free  from 
any  attraction  in  which  affection  figured. 
He  admired  the  girl  as  he  admired  all  peo 
ple,  on  his  side  or  opposed  to  him,  who  had 
keen  wits  and  the  ability  to  put  them  to  use, 
and  he  eliminated  the  sex  question  altogeth 
er.  She  was  simply  one  secret  agent  and 
he  another.  They  represented  different 
countries,  and  it  was  his  duty  to  do  all  in  his 
power  for  his  own.  Not  only  was  she  clever, 
however,  but  she  was  attractive.  He  had 
gotten  in  that  frame  of  mind  where  he  hard 
ly  blamed  Captain  Riener. 

On  the  other  hand,  Miss  Nugent  had 
shown  without  reservation  that  Norroy  im 
pressed  her  very  favorably.  It  might  have 
been  possible,  had  Norroy  chosen  to  try  it, 
for  the  secret  agent  to  compass  his  own  ends 
through  professing  an  affection  for  her,  but 
he  tried  to  consider  the  guest  of  Van  Rey- 
pen  and  Miss  Nugent,  agent  of  Russia,  apart. 
Through  deft  questioning,  he  had  learned 

185 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

several  things  from  her  which  were  most 
useful,  but  he  carried  his  personal  acquaint 
ance  no  further. 

Norroy  appealed  to  women  mainly  be 
cause  he  impressed  them  as  being  stronger 
than  they.  Though  courteous  and  deferen 
tial  to  the  other  sex,  he  never  allowed  them 
to  imagine  for  a  moment  that  he  was  aught 
save  the  master  of  the  situation.  Although 
some  women  railed  against  this  part  of  his 
make-up,  it  was  not  from  real  irritation,  but 
simply  to  impress  their  weaker-minded  sis 
ters,  and  in  Norroy's  presence  they  accepted 
the  inevitable  without  a  thought. 

And  now  they  were  at  St.  Anthony,  and 
the  last  move  in  the  game  was  to  be  played. 
Norroy  could  not  view  the  situation  with 
out  a  slight  degree  of  trepidation,  but  no 
trace  of  this  showed  in  his  manner,  which 
was  as  care-free  as  ever. 

The  yacht  anchored,  the  ship's  boat  was 
lowered,  and  into  it  went  the  eight  guests 
and  the  master  and  mistress  of  the  Sylph. 
Under  the  lusty  strokes  of  the  jackies,  it 

186 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

shot  through  the  water  rapidly,  and  was 
soon  beached  on  the  clean,  white  sand.  When 
Van  Keypen  had  given  orders  for  the  men  to 
return  as  soon  as  the  party  reappeared  on 
the  beach,  the  ten  people  set  off  under  Nor- 
roy 's  leadership  and  climbed  the  great,  white 
sand  dune  before  them  which  led  to  the  path 
through  the  forest  above. 

The  parrots  and  cockatoos  shrilled  above 
them,  and  an  occasional  monkey  chattered 
volubly  to  his  mate.  The  trail  lay  through 
a  jungle  of  magnolias,  orchids  and  creepers, 
with  sycamores  and  banana  trees  waving 
above  and  now  and  then  a  cocoanut  palm. 
The  trees  interwove  their  branches  together, 
and  through  this  the  sunlight  trickled  in 
termittently. 

It  was  a  merry  party,  the  whole  ten  of 
them  seeming  to  have  given  up  to  childhood 
frolics,  and  the  women  dashed  in  and  out  of 
the  thick  groves  followed  by  the  men,  who 
pelted  them  with  stray  orchids,  which  they 
twined  about  their  hats.  Occasionally  a  co 
coanut  palm  would  be  shaken  violently,  and 

187 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

those  inexperienced  in  the  eating  of  the 
fresh  cocoanut  spoiled  gowns  and  trousers 
with  the  creamy  pulp. 

Suddenly  Page  Carewe,  who  was  ahead 
of  the  rest,  gave  a  shrill,  smothered  cry  and 
followed  it  with  a  shriek.  At  the  instant  it 
was  heard,  the  whole  party  rushed  ahead, 
and  on  a  turn  of  the  trail  found  Page  fac 
ing  a  greasy-looking,  black-and-tan  man  in 
tattered  jacket  and  trousers,  who  was  hold 
ing  a  revolver  at  her  head. 

"The  scoundrel  1"  shouted  Archie  Van- 
derness,  and  in  a  moment  he  had  rushed  up. 
The  half-breed  showed  his  yellow  teeth 
viciously  and  cried  out  something  in  Span 
ish.  The  cry  was  answered  by  the  appear 
ance  of  two  more  Spanish  Oaribs,  who  car 
ried  carbines  and  leveled  them  at  the  oncom 
ing  party.  Somewhat  belated,  a  girl  in 
short,  ragged  petticoat  followed  the  men. 
She  also  carried  a  revolver. 

"No  vamos  ustedas"  shouted  the  first 
man  in  "pidgin"  Spanish.  "You  quierre 
no  die,  you  make  behave  ~bueno.  You  sabet" 

188 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

In  spite  of  the  presence  of  the  women, 
each  man  of  the  party  uttered  an  individual 
4  *  damn,"  and  Yorke  Norroy  made  a  grasp 
for  the  nearest  weapon.  Immediately  a  shot 
whistled  past  his  ear,  and  the  man  whom  he 
had  attempted  to  seize  placed  a  pistol  in  close 
proximity  to  his  forehead. 

"Mucho  malo  hombre,"  he  said,  indicat 
ing  himself.  "You  best  make  ~bueno  talk 
now." 

1  "No  use,  Yorke,"  said  Phil  Van  Reypen, 
irritably.  "See  what  the  scoundrels  want. 
I  thought  you  said  the  island  was  uninhabit 
ed?" 

"So  I  thought  it  was,"  returned  Norroy, 
with  some  spirit.  "These  people  are,  very 
likely,  water-folk." 

"Well,  who  understands  Spanish?"  asked 
Van  Eeypen.  "Can  anyone  speak  it  well 
enough  to  find  out  just  what  we'll  have  to  do 
to  get  out  of  this  disagreeable  predica 
ment?" 

There  was  a  dead  silence  among  the  party 
until  Norroy  spoke.  ' '  I  understand  Spanish 

189 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

fairly  well,"  lie  said.  He  turned  to  the  man 
who  had  threatened  him,  and  inquired,  in 
tones  of  indignation,  as  to  what  the  outrage 
meant. 

"We  want  money,"  the  half-caste  replied 
in  Spanish.  "If  you  no  have  got  money,  we 
will  take  your  clothes  away— take  every 
thing.  First  we  tie  up  your  hands." 

Norroy  translated. 

"I'll  be-hanged-if  they  will,"  shouted 
Vanderness.  A  revolver  placed  very  near 
to  his  nose  caused  him  to  change  his  opinion 
on  the  subject,  and  he  was  the  first  man  to  be 
secured.  The  half-caste  used  the  thick  grass 
rope  of  that  section,  twisted  into  many 
strands,  and  the  yachting  party  soon  resem 
bled  a  party  of  condemned  prisoners  headed 
for  the  dock. 

The  women  were  thoroughbreds.  They 
did  not  scream  nor  show  any  great  amount 
of  emotion,  but  their  pale  faces  and  firmly 
compressed  lips  showed  that,  though  they 
did  not  care  to  betray  it  openly,  they  were 
filled  with  alarm  of  the  gravest  sort.  The 

190 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

men  reassured  them.  Phil  Van  Keypen, 
who  had  gotten  over  his  anger,  was  amused 
more  than  anything  else,  as  he  knew  that 
none  of  the  party  possessed  anything  of  any 
great  value  which  they  were  carrying  that 
morning. 

Norroy  mentally  approved  little  Miss  Nu 
gent.  It  was  not  hard  to  see  that  the  girl 
was  fighting  against  hope.  If  these  scoun 
drels  took  away  her  papers,  it  would  mean  a 
great  loss  to  her— and  what  assurance  had 
she  that  they  would  not  ?  Nevertheless,  she 
tried  to  smile  bravely,  but  the  result  was 
nothing  save  a  sickly  distortion  of  the  lips. 

They  emerged  from  the  jungle  to  a  little 
clearing.  "The  out-lodge,"  Vanderness  in 
formed  Miss  Carewe,  as  a  little,  thatched 
bungalow  came  into  view.  It  had  been  used 
by  the  club  for  skinning  and  smoking  their 
game.  The  shortest  of  the  three  men,  who 
seemed  to  be  the  leader,  opened  the  door 
and  stood  by  with  his  companions  while  the 
yachting  party  passed  into  the  smoke-be 
grimed  room  with  the  rude  settles  about. 

191 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Without  asking  any  questions  the  women  sat 
down  and  the  men  eyed  their  captors  defiant- 

iy. 

The  plan  of  the  half-castes  was  very 
simple,  and  Norroy's  translation  of  it  told 
the  party  only  what  they  knew  before.  The 
men  were  searched  first,  and  watches,  fobs, 
sovereign  cases— -containing  five-dollar  gold 
pieces— scarf-pins,  cuff  links  and  other  arti 
cles  of  value  were  made  into  a  little  heap  in 
the  lap  of  the  half-caste  girl,  who  sat  cross- 
legged  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  When  each 
of  the  five  men  had  contributed  his  share, 
he  was  taken  out  of  the  large  room  into  a' 
smaller  one  adjoining,  and  the  girl  went 
about  searching  the  women,  her  masculine 
companions  accompanying  the  men  of  the 
party. 

"Why,  the  brutes  actually  have  some  del 
icacy!"  exclaimed  Page  Carewe,  in  a  sur 
prised  tone,  when  the  women  were  left  alone 
with  the  girl.  '  *  Fancy  that ! ' '  The  girl  was 
searching  her  as  she  spoke,  and  had  soon 
stripped  her  of  everything  of  any  possible 

192 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

value,  including  a  pair  of  monogrammed 
gold-clasped  unmentionables.  At  the  last 
Page  began  to  laugh. 

"Now,  really,  my  dear,"  she  said,  address 
ing  the  girl, '  '  that 's  unfair !  I  have  on  short 

skirts  and "  She  watched  the  wrinkles 

in  her  hose.  "Isn't  that  vexatious?  They 
won't  stay  up  without  them." 

The  girl  preserved  a  stony  face.  "She 
doesn't  understand,"  sighed  Polly  Van  Bey- 
pen,  when  she  was  likewise  despoiled.  "It's 
no  use.  Can't  you  make  her  understand 
that  she  can  take  the  clasps—but  please 
leave  us  the  elastic?" 

Under  the  influence  of  the  two  speakers, 
the  feeling  of  unrest  left  the  other  two,  and 
they  began  to  laugh.  It  was  really  a  comic 
situation !  Miss  Nugent  endeavored  to  join 
them,  but  her  lips  could  only  form  a  wan 
smile. 

She  was  the  last  to  be  searched,  and  the 
girl  had  taken  everything  from  her  before 
she  discovered  the  packet  of  papers.  She 
handled  them  with  a  critical  eye  when  she 


193 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

had  uncovered  them,  and  gazed  speculative- 
ly  on  the  seals  and  tape.  Miss  Nugent  gestic 
ulated  wildly,  and  spoke  to  the  girl  in  three 
languages,  which  the  half-caste  did  not  ap 
pear  to  understand.  Then  Miss  Nugent 
tried  Italian,  with  which  she  had  often  made 
Spaniards  comprehend. 

"They  are  of  no  value.  Give  them  to  me. 
They  are  my  private  papers.  You  must  not 
take  them." 

The  girl  looked  at  her  distrustfully,  and 
seemed  to  only  partly  comprehend.  "Why, 
then,  is  the  senorita  so  anxious  that  I  shall 
not  have  them*?"  she  inquired. 

"They  are  valuable  to  me,"  returned  Miss 
Nugent,  piteously.  "Do  not  take  them.  If 
you  will  come  to  the  yacht,  I  will  give  you 
more  money— one  thousand  pesos " 

With  a  look  of  contempt  and  an  exclama 
tion  of  "Mentfaosa!"  the -girl  tossed  the 
papers  on  the  heap.  "I  will  show  them  to 
my  brothers,"  she  informed  Miss  Nugent  in 
Spanish. 

After  allowing  the  women  time  to  arrange 

194 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

their  disordered  attire— for  which  she  un 
tied  their  hands  one  by  one,  keeping  them 
covered  with  her  revolver  and  tying  each  one 
up  again—  the  girl  called  "Venga  usted> 
Emilo,"  and  the  shortest  man  entered.  She 
pointed  to  the  pile  and  spoke  to  him  rapidly 
in  Spanish,  he  nodding  comprehendingly 
and  giving  frequent  exclamations  of  "Bu- 
eno!"  "Muy  bueno!"  He  picked  up  tUe  dif 
ferent  articles  and  threw  them  into  a  piece 
of  burlap  which  lay  on  the  floor,  afterward 
tying  the  bundle  into  a  knot. 

Meanwhile  the  men  had  been  kept  in  the 
outer  room,  and  they  were  full  of  anxiety 
concerning  the  ladies  of  the  party.  Norroy 
continually  questioned  the  short  Spaniard 
regarding  them,  and  he  returned  fretfully 
that  no  harm  was  meant  them.  Finally  he 
quitted  the  room  to  go  to  the  girl,  and  the 
other  two  followed  him  five  moments  later, 
when  he  called  to  them.  The  men  were  left 
alone. 

"This  is  absolutely  ridiculous,"  said 
Philippse  Van  Eeypen,  with  a  ghost  of  a 

195 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 


smile.  " Imagine!  The  sober  twentieth  cen 
tury " 

"They  say  this  used  to  be  a  pirate  island," 
put  in  Tommy  Sitcell.  ' i  Maybe  these  are  the 
descendants  of  the  pirates." 

"I  would  like  a  cigarette,"  stated  Yorke 
Norroy. 

Ned  Sturtevant  agreed  with  him. 

Vanderness  looked  sullen.  "I  don't  en 
vy  Carson  Huntley  his  neighbors,"  he 
growled.  "And,  besides,  anyone  would 
think  he  would  have  taken  some  precautions, 
knowing  that  we  were  coming,  and  that 
these  scoundrels  were  roaming  about— 

" Perhaps  he  didn't  know  it,"  suggested 
Yorke  Norroy. 

"Then  he  should  have,"  returned  Vander 
ness.  "There's  no  excuse  for  this  sort  of 
thing." 

Silence  fell  upon  the  party,  and  they 
worked  desperately  at  the  ropes  which 
bound  their  hands,  but  nothing  resulted 
therefrom  save  chafing  of  the  wrists,  and 
they  soon  desisted.  Norroy  had  been  the  on- 

196 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

ly  man  who  had  not  made  the  attempt,  and 
now  his  eyes  glittered. 

"I  want  a  cigarette,"  he  said;  "and  fur 
thermore,  I  am  going  to  get  one." 

"How?"  sneered  Vanderness. 

"With  your  assistance,"  returned  Nor- 
roy,  politely.  "Kindly  insert  the  toe  of  your 
shoe  in  that  knot  behind  my  back." 

Vanderness  surveyed  him  contemptuous 
ly.  "Yorke  Norroy,  you  talk  like  an  idiot. 
How  am  I  to  get  my  boot-toe  into  that 
knot?" 

"Pardon  me,"  said  Norroy.  "I  forgot 
the  size  of  your  foot,  Archie.  I  think  I  shall 
rejoin  our  fair  companions.  Their  feet  are 
more  adapted  to  the  idea." 

He  found  the  women  sitting  patiently  on 
the  settle,  in  a  row,  and  disconsolate.  Miss 
Nugent  ?s  face  was  buried  in  her  hands. 

They  greeted  Norroy  almost  rapturously, 
and  in  a  few  words  he  explained  the  idea  to 
them.  "Suppose  you  try  it,  Polly,"  he  sug 
gested.  The  idea  was  a  perfectly  plausible 
one,  and,  after  working  the  toe  of  her  boot 

197 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

about  for  some  five  minutes  or  so,  Norroy 
could  feel  the  strands  parting.  He  gave  a 
heave  of  his  wrists  and  put  all  the  strength 
of  his  forearm  into  it,  while  she  thrust  her 
whole  shoe  into  the  opening. 

"You  can  get  your  right  hand  out  now, 
I  think,"  she  said.  Norroy  adopted  the  sug 
gestion,  and  after  some  little  time  succeeded 
in  freeing  that  member,  after  which  the 
knotted  rope  fell  to  the  floor.  He  arose  from 
his  knees  and  rubbed  his  wrists. 

"Now  for  my  benefactress,"  he  said,  smil 
ing. 

"Thank  Heaven!"  ejaculated  Polly  Van 
Keypen,  piously.  Norroy  freed  her  by  a  few 
deft  workings  of  his  long  thin  fingers,  and 
she  stood  up  and  took  several  deep  breaths. 

"When  you've  untied  the  girls,  go  out  and 
rescue  youj  husband,"  smiled  Norroy.  "I 
am  going  hunting  for  those  half-breed 
scoundrels." 

Miss  Nugent  started  up.  "Oh,  Mr.  Nor 
roy,"  she  said,  her  voice  quavering,  "they 
have  some  papers  of  mine!  Get  them  for 

198 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

me— please  get  them  for  me." 

"I  will  get  them,  if  possible,"  he  returned, 
with  a  peculiar  smile,  which  had  significance 
for  him  only.  He  turned  to  the  door.  But 
he  did  not  have  to  hunt  for  the  half-breeds, 
for  at  that  instant  one  of  them  entered  the 
door.  Norroy  hurled  himself  upon  him  for 
cibly,  and  the  man  fell  under  the  impetus 
of  the  shock.  In  an  instant  Norroy  had 
wrenched  his  revolver  from  him. 

"Ah,  senor,"  he  remarked,  pleasantly. 
"Get  up  and  let  us  see  your  villainous  face. 
Where  are  your  other  friends?" 

At  the  sound  of  the  noise  the  other  cap 
tives  entered  from  the  adjoining  room. 
"Good  for  you,  Yorke,"  said  Van  Reypen, 
with  gusto.  "Ask  him  what  became  of  my 
diamond  fob."  He  advanced  and  nodded 
ominously  at  the  now  vanquished  captor. 
"Where  is  it,  you  scoundrel?  Untie  my 
hands,  Polly."  " 

While  Mrs.  Van  Reypen  was  carrying  out 
the  commands  of  her  lord  and  master,  Miss 
Nugent,  now  free,  rushed  forward.  "And 

199 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

where  are  my  papers'?  Make  him  give  me 
my  papers!  Make  him  tell  you,  Mr.  Nor 
roy  1" 

"All  in  a  moment,  Miss  Nugent,"  soothed 
Norroy.  He  turned  to  the  cowering  half- 
breed.  "Where  are  the  things  which  you 
have  stolen  from  us?" 

"Aqui,  senor,"  muttered  the  trembling 
man.  "Aqui."  He  pointed  to  the  bag  which 
he  had  been  carrying,  and  which  had  been 
jolted  out  of  his  hand  when  Norroy  sprang 
upon  him. 

"Pick  up  that  bag,  Tommy,"  ordered  Nor 
roy.  Sitcell  obeyed  instructions  and  untied 
the  coarse  sack  of  burlap. 

"Where  are  your  companions?"  inquired 
Norroy,  for  the  second  time.  Whimpering 
ly,  the  man  informed  him  that  they  had  gone 
to  the  waterfront  to  make  ready  the  sailing 
boat  to  return  to  Ularda ;  that  they  were  fish 
ing  folk  and  had  never  stolen  before.  Nor 
roy  translated. 

"The  liar!"  commented  Van  Reypen. 

"My  papers— where   are   my   papers?" 

200 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

wailed  Miss  Nugent. 

"I  suppose  they  are  in  the  bag,"  answered 
Norroy.  "Wait  until  Sitcell  opens  it,  Miss 
Nugent." 

"Gather  round,  folks,"  said  Tommy  Sit 
cell,  as  the  neck  of  the  bag  was  worked  open. 
"I  am  going  to  pour  all  the  contents  on  this 
settle."  As  he  spoke  he  did,  and  there  was 
an  instant  rush  on  the  part  of  the  women, 
and  the  men  were  pushed  away.  In  the 
hurry,  several  things  fell  to  the  floor.  All 
the  women  drew  away  except  Page  Carewe, 
who  still  groped  on. 

"Did  anyone  lose  anything?"  inquired 
Archie  Vanderness,  blandly,  as  he  picked  up 
a  piece  of  pink  gauze  elastic  with  a  gold 
clasp.  Page  Carewe  snatched  it  and  favored 
the  finder  with  an  indignant  glance. 

"But  my  papers  are  not  there,  Mr.  Nor- 
roy!"  cried  Honora  Nugent,  in  a  voice  of 
despair.  "Please  ask  him  where  they  are." 

"Where  are  the  papers  which  you  took 
from  this  lady?"  asked  Norroy,  sternly, 
pointing  to  Miss  Nugent. 

201 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"I  took  no  papers,  senor,"  returned  the 
half-breed,  with  a  frightened  glance. 

"He  says  he  took  no  papers,  Miss  Nu- 
.  gent,"  translated  Norroy,  for  the  girPs  bene 
fit. 

"He  did  not,  but  she  did— the  girl  who 
searched  us.  She  took  them— she  took 
them " 

Norroy  turned  to  the  half-caste  again  and 
discoursed  with  him  volubly,  the  other  reply 
ing  with  a  cringing  look  and  a  glance  which 
seemed  to  show  that,  had  he  the  power,  evil 
would  result  to  his  questioner. 

It  was  with  some  hesitation  that  Nor 
roy  regarded  the  expectant  countenance  of 
Miss  Honora  Nugent.  "Were  the  papers 
very  valuable  to  you,  Miss  Nugent?"  he  in 
quired. 

"Valuable?  Valuable ?"  she  cried,  almost 
on  the  verge  of  hysteria.  "Yes— oh,  yes! 
Where  are  they?" 

"Brace  yourself,  Miss  Nugent,"  said  Nor 
roy,  softly.  "I  am  sorry— this  scoundrel 
shall  pay  for  it— but " 

202 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"  Tell  me- tell  me " 

"He  says  that  they  found  no  money  in  the 
papers,  and  they  were  afraid  they  would  do 
them  injury,  so  they " 

She  sprang  forward,  Her  arm  extended. 
''Don't  tell  me  so  slowly — what  did  they  do?" 

"  There  was  a  fire— they  dropped  them  in. 
Quick— catch  her!" 

He  himself  ran  forward  to  the  task,  and 
his  revolver  dropped  to  the  floor.  The  girl 
had  given  vent  to  a  wild  cry,  had  thrown  out 
her  hands,  and  would  have  fallen  prone  had 
not  Norroy  caught  her  in  his  arms.  Her  head 
fell  over  his  arm,  a  dead  weight,  her  hair  be 
came  unloosened  and  shrouded  her  pallid 
face. 

At  the  same  moment  the  half-breed,  who 
realized  that  all  eyes  were  now  upon  the 
fainting  woman,  gave  a  quick  glance  around, 
saw  that  he  was  not  perceived  and  darted  for 
the  door.  As  he  vanished,  Archie  Vander- 
ness  observed  him,  and,  anxious  to  distin 
guish  himself  in  the  eyes  of  Page  Carewe, 
picked  up  the  revolver  and  followed  in  his 
wake. 

203 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HOW  THE  PLANS  CAME  BACK. 

But  Archie  Vanderness  returned  a  very 
short  space  afterward  with  no  prisoner.  In 
stead  of  that,  he  was  accompanied  by  a  well- 
groomed  young  man  in  golf  tweeds  and  fish 
erman's  boots,  who  welcomed  the  party,  one 
and  all,  with  great  fervor,  and  expressed  his 
utmost  regrets  that  such  a  thing  should  have 
happened  when  they  came  to  visit  him.  This 
was  Carson  Huntley.  He  gave  them  an  ur 
gent  invitation  to  come  to  the  lodge,  but  Phil 
iVan  Reypen  refused  for  the  party— refused 
politely  and  courteously,  but  nevertheless  re 
fused. 

6 '  No,  Carson, ' f  he  answered,  firmly,  ' '  we ' ve 
had  enough  of  your  blooming  island.  Not 
that  it  was  your  fault,  but  —well,  the  women 
are  half  scared  to  death,  and  they  need  rest 
and  quiet;  and  their  nerves  won't  be  at  ease 
until  they  leave  this  little  body  of  land  sur 
rounded  by  water." 

204 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

He  addressed  Ned  Sturtevant:  "Come, 
we'll  have  to  carry  Miss  Nugent  back  to  the 
boat.  Poor  girl!  I  wonder  what  was  in 
those  papers." 

It  was  not  a  subject  upon  which  to  dis 
course,  and  was  soon  dropped.  Ned  Sturte 
vant,  Yorke  Norroy  and  Phil  himself  took 
turns  at  carrying  the  senseless  body  of  the 
Nugent  girl,  and  the  beach  was  finally 
reached.  Immediately  a  boat  put  out  from 
the  yacht. 

"I'd  advise  you  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout 
for  your  head,  Carson,"  warned  Vanderness, 
as  they  stood  on  the  beach.  "Have  you  ever 
seen  these  scoundrels  before?" 

"Yes— three  men  and  a  girl.  They  came 
to  the  island  yesterday,  and  I  warned  them 
off  with  a  gun.  They  embarked,  and  I 
thought  they  had  gone.  There  would  have 
been  no  danger  if  you  had  carried  weapons." 

"Never  you  mind  about  us,"  said  Vander 
ness,  sourly.  "We're  out  of  the  blessed 
scrape !"  He  stepped  into  the  waiting  boat, 
and  turned  to  shake  hands  perfunctorily 

205 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

with  Huntley  and  with  Norroy. 

"I'm  giving  you  the  slip  here,  folks,"  said 
Norroy.  "And  I  want  to  wish  you  luck  for 
the  coining  voyage  and  to  thank  you  im 
mensely,  Phil  and  Polly,  too,  for  a  very 
pleasant,  profitable  trip —except  for  the  last 
incident." 

The  good-bys  were  said  and  the  boat 
pushed  off.  Yorke  Norroy  and  Carson 
Huntley  waited  on  the  sand  until  the  smoke 
began  to  pour  out  of  the  yacht's  funnels, 
and  the  vessel  glided  away  on  her  southern 
course.  Norroy  waved  his  hat  and  Huntley 
Ms  gun,  and  many  bits  of  cambric  fluttered 
from  the  yacht's  taffrail. 

As  Norroy  turned  to  go,  Huntley  regard 
ed  him  with  a  grin.  "I  should  think  you 
did  make  a  profitable  voyage,  Yorke,"  he 
commented. 

"Rather,"  agreed  Mr.  Norroy. 

That  evening,  after  dinner,  five  men  in 
cool,  white  drill,  and  a  woman  in  white 
ducks  sat  on  the  veranda  of  the  little  bunga 
low,  which  had  once  been  the  headquarters 

206 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

of  the  hunt  club.  The  woman  was  very  fair 
and  had  light,  wheat-straw  hair. 

"You  did,"  agreed  Norroy,  referring  to 
a  previous  statement.  "It  was  a  well-acted 
little  comedy— very  well  acted,  indeed.  Your 
stage  experience  came  in  well,  didn't  it,  Ade 
laide?" 

The  girl  laughed.  "It  did— especially  the 
art  of  repression.  There  was  one  point  in 

which  it  was  invaluable.  I "  She  ended 

the  sentence  in  a  laugh.  "Eeally,  it  was  too 
funny,  and  the  funniest  part  of  it  is  that  it 
wouldn't  be  quite  proper  to  tell  it  to  men." 

"Tell  it,  anyhow,"  said  Hillam,  a  rather 
diminutive  man.  "I  thought  you  were  a 
Bohemian  and  scorned  conventions." 

"Your  acting  was  the  best  of  it  all, 
though,"  said  the  girl,  addressing  Norroy 
and  ignoring  Hillam.  "When  you  made 
that  grab  for  Mr.  Turner's  gun,  it  was  as 
good  as  a  comic  opera." 

"It  wasn't  comic  for  some  one,"  re 
marked  Matheson.  "To  judge  from  what 
Hillam  says  he  saw  when  you  were  reading 

207 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

the  riot  act  to  him  with  his  own  gun  pointed 
at  him— and  nothing  in  it." 

"No,"  agreed  Norroy,  soberly.  "And,  by 
the  way,  who  has  those  papers?  I  am 
charged  to  deliver  them,  and  I  want  them 


.now." 


Turner  handed  them  to  him  silently.  Nor- 
roy  placed  them  in  his  coat  pocket. 

"And  now  for  the  funny  part  of  it,  Ade 
laide,"  he  suggested,  turning  to  the  girl. 

Choking  with  laughter,  Miss  Adelaide 
Hardesty,  former  stock-company  actress, 
and  now  secret  agent  of  the  state  depart 
ment,  told  the  tale  of  the  half-breed  girl, 
the  "unmentionables,"  and  the  hose  that 
would  not  stay  up. 

"And  I  didn't  laugh  once— because  I 
'didn't  understand  English.  But  it  was  a 
strain,"  she  averred. 


208 


The   Eagle's   Eyrie 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  LIBERATOR. 

"When  the  envoy  extraordinary  and  minis 
ter  plenipotentiary  of  the  United  States  to 
Saxonia  received  the  cryptic  message  which 
was  handed  him  by  one  of  the  legation  ser 
vants,  he  was  in  good  spirits,  and  he  thought 
well  of  the  world ;  the  fact  being  that  he  had 
just  dined,  and  dined  well.  He  opened  the 
envelope  with  slight  interest,  but  when  he 
saw  that  it  was  in  the  secret  code  of  the 
State  Department,  he  thrust  it  in  his  pocket 
and  left  his  guests  in  the  smoking  room. 

He  ascended  to  his  library  and  puzzled 
out  the  first  few  words.  The  lines  on  his 
face,  relaxed  by  the  comfortable  after-din 
ner  feeling,  came  back,  creasing  his  counte- 

209 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

nance  into  many  folds  until  it  resembled 
nothing  so  much  as  crumbly  parchment,  f ul- 
yous  with  age. 

"Good  heavens!"  The  words  came  in 
voluntarily  and  expressed  many  things.  He 
touched  a  button  near  by  with  a  shaking 
hand. 

"A  brandy  and  soda,  Wilhelm,"  he  said, 
when  a  servant  appeared.  "And  you  will 
tell  Herr  Manley  to  come  up— as  soon  as  he 
can " 

The  door  closed,  and  the  envoy  extraordi 
nary  rested  his  head  on  his  hands,  staring 
before  him  with  unseeing  eyes.  A  vigorous 
knock  on  the  door  recalled  him  to  the  smaller 
things  of  life. 

"Well?"  he  demanded,  irritably. 

Manley,  the  secretary  of  legation,  a  very 
young  man  with  a  preternaturally  keen  ex 
pression  of  face,  entered. 

"I  think  you  sent  for  me,"  he  half  ques 
tioned,  half  asserted. 

"Yes—I  did,"  confirmed  the  envoy  ex 
traordinary.  "I  did,  Manley,  I  did  send— 

210 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

— "  He  was  composing  himself  now  and 
the  fingers  that  tendered  the  paper  to  Man- 
ley  did  not  tremble.  'That  is  from  Gross- 
mark.  You  know  who  he  is.  Our  spy  at 
the  Saxonian  foreign  office " 

"Yes,  I  know,"  interrupted  Manley.  "I 
know.  It's  in  crypt,  I  see.  Important?" 

The  envoy  frowned.  "You— translate," 
he  said,  slowly.  "I  have— translated— but 
I  want  you " 

The  secretary  heaved  a  sigh,  remembering 
the  pretty  women  in  the  drawing-room.  "Oh, 
very  well,"  he  returned,  half  sulkily.  "Very 
well." 

He  took  down  the  secret-code  book  and  a 
blank  sheet  of  paper.  "Shall  I  translate  as 
I  make  it  out?"  he  wished  to  know. 

The  envoy  nodded ;  and  the  secretary  read, 
laboriously : 

Jorge  Emilio  de  Legaspi, 

"Hello!  our  South  American  friend  at  it 
again,"  he  interpolated,  with  alertness,  then 
continued : 

Has   been   enticed  over   the    Saxonian  border   by   the 

i 

211 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Baroness  Aufsberg.  He  arrived  at  her  castle,  the  Eagle's 
Eyrie,  this  morning,  crossing  the  Austrian  border  by  way 
of  Hohejuch. 

Manley  whistled  abruptly. 

" Don't  do  that,"  commanded  the  envoy 
extraordinary.  ' i  Don 't ! "  His  tone  was  al 
most  querulous.  ' '  Don 't ! "  he  reiterated. 

"Oh,  very  well,"  responded  the  secretary. 
The  seriousness  of  the  affair  began  to  dawn 
on  him.  "But,  excuse  me,  Mr.  Frothing- 
ham,  this  looks  pretty  bad,  doesn't  it?  De 
Legaspi  will  surely  be  elected  president  of 
Andevia  in  three  months— -surely " 

"Not  surely  if  he  is  now  at  Eagle's  Ey 
rie,"  said  Frothingham,  grimly.  "Very  far 
from  surely— very  far  from  it " 

"Quite  so,"  meditated  Manley.  "Quite 
so. ' '  Ideas  came  thick  and  fast  then.  * i  That 
means,"  he  continued,  rapidly  prophesying 
—"that  means  that  Saxonia  will  get 
her  South  American  foothold  after  all, 
doesn't  it?  If  De  Legaspi  were  elected 
president  of  Andevia,  he  would  follow  the 
same  tactics  as  old  Fortuno— in  fact,  he's 
Fortune's  choice,  I  believe,  isn't  he?"  As 

212 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 


questioned,  Frothingham  nodded 
gravely.  "And,  therefore,  it  will  be 
bad—  rather  bad—  for  the  United  States  if 
De  Legaspi  isn't  elected  --  " 

"It  will  mean  that  Mentiroso,  already 
bought  by  Saxonia,  will  deed  over  a  certain 
tract  of  land  to  her  in  payment  of  Andevia's 
debts—  and  that  tract  will  be  the  very  tract 
to  menace  the  neutrality  of  the  canal.  Bath 
er  than  allow  Saxonia  to  have  it,  there  will 
be  --  " 

"War,"  broke  in  Manley.  As  the  baleful 
prescience  was  put  into  words,  the  two  men 
eyed  one  another  half  apprehensively, 
"War!"  repeated  Manley,  as  though  doubt 
ing.  "War!"  he  said  again,  this  time  with 
no  doubt. 

"In  other  words,"  Frothingham  said,  now 
master  of  himself,  "if  De  Legaspi  is  held  in 
Eagle's  Eyrie  until  he  can  be  taken  prisoner 
by  the  government  of  Saxonia,  trouble  be 
tween  Saxonia  and  the  United  States, 
trouble  of  the  gravest  kind,  will  surely  oc 
cur."  He  paused  for  a  moment,  regarding 

213 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Manley.  Then,  with  impatience  in  his  voice : 
"But  you  haven't  finished  the  message. 
There's  worse  to  come— much  worse  to  come, 

and " 

Manley  turned  to  the  crypt  again: 

The  baroness  has  evidently  cast  some  manner  of 
charm  over  De  Legaspi.  He  is  no  doubt  in  love  with  her. 
He  left  Austria  secretly,  passing  over  the  mountains  in 
the  guise  of  a  hunter  and  posing  as  Senor  Catorro,  of 
Madrid.  He  has  a  passport  reading  in  that  name.  The 
baroness  is  a  tool  of  the  government,  and  set  on  this 
task  deliberately.  Unfortunately,  I  have  only  now  dis 
covered  the  fact.  On  De  Legaspi's  arrival,  she  notified 
Schreyer,  who  has  telegraphed  De  Legaspi's  descrip 
tion  to  every  border  guard  in  Saxonia.  De  Legaspi  can 
not  return  to  Austria  without  being  arrested.  The  govern 
ment  knows  this  and  seems  to  be  in  no  hurry  to  arrest 
him;  but  a  file  of  soldiers  from  Schmucken,  the  nearest 
town  to  Eagle's  Eyrie,  forty  miles  away,  will  march  in 
that  direction  to-morrow,  while  Otto  von  Roeder,  secret 
agent,  leaves  for  Eagle's  Eyrie  to-night,  reaching  there 
perhaps  in  two  days,  as  the  railroad  does  not  extend 
to  within  twenty  miles  or  more  of  the  castle,  and  some 
hard  mountain  climbing  must  be  done  to  reach  it.  More 
later  if  more  can  be  obtained. 

The  writer  had  evidently  ceased  abruptly 
in  his  writing,  for  the  recital  of  Manley  came 
to  a  sudden  stop.  After  several  moments' 
silence,  Manley  spoke. 

"I  don't  see  what  we  can  do,  Mr.  Frothing- 
ham,"  he  said,  with  an  attempt  at  calm. 

214 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"We  are  bound  hand  and  foot.  THe  only 
thing  wre  should  do  is  to  cable  the  entire  af 
fair  directly  to  the  secretary  at  Washington, 

and  ask  his  advice.  He  is  fertile  in  his  ideas 
and » 

"Yes,"  responded  the  envoy,  but  without 
hope.  "That  should  be  done— we  must  do 
that " 

"Now,  of  course?"  said  the  legation  secre 
tary,  supererogatively.  The  envoy  nodded, 
drawing  some  telegraph  blanks  toward  him. 

Several  hours  later  a  message,  sent  at  ur 
gent  rates,  found  the  secretary  of  state  at 
one  of  the  dinners  of  the  Washington  sea 
son,  and  talking  writh  apparent  enjoyment 
to  a  pretty  debutante.  Soon  after  receiv 
ing  the  message,  he  excused  himself  and 
slipped  away  unobtrusively. 

Beading  the  cablegram,  he  gave  vent  to 
occasional  exclamations  betokening  a  per 
turbed  mind.  But  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
dispatch,  he  half  smiled. 

"Torke  Norroy,"  he  murmured.     "Just 

215 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

the  kind  of  affair  in  which  the  fertile  scamp 
excels.  And  he  is  in  Saxonia  now— in  Dre- 
sig,  in  fact.  His  address"— a  moment's 
search  in  a  private  memorandum  book  and 
he  found  the  required  information— "  'Herr 
Anton  von  Obermuller,  178  Lebmistrasse, 
Dresig.'  Not  a  stone's  throw  from  the  em 
bassy."  The  secretary  ruminated,  his  finger 
making  imaginary  characters  on  the  cloth- 
topped  table.  "Of  course,  he  doesn't  know 
about  this.  He's  on  quite  a  different  mis 
sion.  But " 

Rapidly  the  secretary  wrote  two  cable 
grams,  both  in  secret  code.  One  was  ad 
dressed  to  Herr  Anton  von  Obermuller,  the 
other  to  Frothingham,  American  embassy. 

The  first  directed  the  recipient  to  go  in 
stantly  to  the  address  of  the  second,  con 
fer  with  the  Hon.  Mr.  Frothingham,  and 
then  act.  The  second  informed  the  envoy 
extraordinary  that,  in  the  guise  of  Anton 
von  Obermuller,  he  would  find  a  secret  agent 
of  the  Department  of  State  who  could  be 
depended  upon  to  solve  the  problem,  if  solv- 

216 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

able;  Mr.  Frothingham  was  to  furnish  the 
Herr  von  Obermuiler  with  all  the  informa 
tion  in  his  possession. 

It  was  near  eleven  o'clock  when  the  envoy 
extraordinary  had  explained  the  situation 
to  Yorke  Norroy,  who  sat  in  the  embassy 
library  looking  very  little  like  the  Torke 
Norroy  known"  to  the  society  circles  of  Wash 
ington,  New  York  and  London.  In  appear 
ance,  the  man  who  sat  there  resembled  a  Ger 
man  savant  of  much  learning  and  a  slight 
disregard  for  the  conventionalities  of  dress. 
A  bushy  beard  of  a  tawny  color  stood  out 
from  his  face,  and  his  mustache  was  short- 
clipped  and  upturned.  His  hair  was  rather 
long  and  his  scarf  loosely  knotted.  Froth- 
ingham  knew  Yorke  Norroy,  man  of  fash 
ion,  quite  well;  but  he  failed  to  connect  the 
soft-mannered  exquisite  with  this  Teuton  of 
the  Teutons. 

On  hearing  the  first  general  outline  of  the 
story,  Norroy  had  said  briefly:  "This  Gross- 
mark  knows  that  Von  Boeder  is  to  leave. 
Send  a  message  to  him  immediately  and  find 

217 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

out  when."  Norroy  was  speaking  in  his 
native  tongue  with  a  broad  New  York 
twang. 

When  the  message  had  been  dispatched  to 
the  spy  of  the  foreign  office,  Norroy  listened 
gravely  to  all  that  Frothingham  had  to  say. 
Together  they  consulted  maps  and  planned 
the  route  to  be  taken  in  order  to  reach  the 
Eagle's  Eyrie. 

Within  the  hour,  an  answer  had  arrived 
from  Grossmark: 

Von  Roeder  goes  by  the  midnight  express  going  to 
Vienna.  He  will  leave'  it  at  Kron,  the  nearest  point  to 
the  Aufsberg  castle.  Kron  is  a  village,  not  a  railroad  sta 
tion.  It  is  only  by  orders  that  the  express  is  to  stop 
there. 

"Good,"  commented  Torke  Norroy.  "It 
is  now  less  than  twenty-five  minutes  to 
twelve.  I  have  no  time  to  waste,  Mr.  Froth 
ingham.  I  will  say  good-night  to  you " 

"But  what  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked 
the  envoy. 

"Events  sometimes  shape  themselves," 
returned  the  secret  agent,  with  the  faint 
suspicion  of  a  smile.  "I  do  not  know  ex- 

218 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

actly.  But  I  shall  be  on  the  express  which 
stops  at  Kron— with  Herr  von  Boeder. 
Good-night,  Mr.  Frothingham." 

He  made  his  way  out  of  the  house  rapidly. 
To  go  to  his  own  rooms,  to  pack  a  few  clothes 
and  a  few  disguises,  took  him  but  little  time ; 
and  at  three  minutes  to  twelve  o'clock  he 
passed  through  the  gates  of  the  railway  sta 
tion  and  swung  aboard  the  Vienna  express. 


219 


CHAPTER  II. 

AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  GOLDEN"  BOAR. 

By  four  o'clock  of  the  afternoon  of  the 
following  day,  the  mountains  showed  in  the 
distance,  seemingly  firmer  figments  of  mist 
rising  out  of  the  cold  blue  haze  in  the  dis 
tance.  As  the  train  dragged  itself  forward 
unwillingly,  they  became  more  distinct,  ro 
seate  tipped  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 

The  darkness  shrouded  the  land  in  its 
mantle  before  their  proximity  became  more 
visualized,  and  Norroy  reopened  the  novel 
which  he  had  been  trying  to  read  all  day,  and 
perused  a  few  pages  of  it  in  the  dim  lamp 
light  of  the  wagon-lit.  But  soon  it  dropped 
into  his  lap  unheeded  and  he  lighted  a  ciga 
rette,  gazing  speculatively  into  the  darkness 
outside. 

He  had  sat  thus  for  perhaps  an  hour  when 
the  sharp  whistle  which  indicates  a  near 
stoppage  of  the  train  came  to  his  ears.  He 

220 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  nearly  seven 
o'clock.  Evidently  the  whistle  indicated 
that  Kron  was  near.  He  stopped  a  passing 
guard  and  inquired. 

"We  stop  there  but  for  a  moment,  to  al 
low  a  single  passenger  to  disembark.  He  is 
on  official  business.  No,  herr,  it  is  not  cus 
tomary  to  stop  here.  Ah,  yes,  you  are  to 
leave,  too.  It  is  fortunate  for  you,  then,  else 
you  would  have  been  taken  twenty  miles 
further  to  Hohejuch— which  is  on  the  fron 
tier " 

Norroy  put  the  novel  into  his  bag  along 
with  several  little  toilet  articles  he  had  tak 
en  from  it.  He  snapped  the  lock  and  drew 
on  the  long  ulster,  pulling  his  cloth  travel 
ing  cap  over  his  eyes.  There  was  a  quiver 
and  a  shake  and  the  train  settled  itself  down 
to  a  crawl,  then  stopped. 

' '  Kron,  herr, ' '  came  the  voice  of  the  guard. 
Norroy  picked  up  his  bag  and  descended 
from  the  train.  At  the  same  time,  another 
man,  very  similarly  garbed,  stepped  from 
another  carriage.  The  shout  of  "All  off" 

221 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

rang  out,  and  the  train  began  to  move  again, 
slowly.    Norroy  looked  around  him. 

He  stood  on  a  little  declivity  along  which 
ran  the  railroad  tracks.  Below,  in  a  minia 
ture  valley,  lights  gleamed,  and  from  the 
black  sides  o'f  the  mountains  other  tiny 
specks  of  fire  glinted  occasionally. 

He  noticed  that  the  other  man  was  mov 
ing  toward  him.  Presently  he  stopped  with 
in  a  few  paces.  "Can  you  direct  me  to  an 
inn?"  he  asked.  "An  inn,  a  hotel,  any  sort 
of  place  where  shelter  for  the  night  may  be 
obtained?" 

"I  have  just  left  the  train  myself,"  re 
plied  Norroy.  "I  do  not  know  of  any  such 
place.  Perhaps  we  had  best  hunt  together. ' ' 

They  were  speaking  in  German.  Norroy 
had  adopted  the  heavy  pompous  manner 
which  is  seemingly  a  part  of  the  make-up  of 
a  scientific  German.  "I  am  a  geologist,"  he 
added,  slowly.  "Of  the  Eoyal  CoUege  of 
Mines.  It  was  lucky  for  you  that  you  were 
on  the  train  with  me.  I  had  the  royal  permit 
for  the  train  to  stop  at  Kron.  It  is  not  a 

regular  station ' 9 

222 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"That  is  a  coincidence,"  put  in  the  other. 
"For  such  a  permit  I  myself  had.  I  am  con 
nected  with  the  government  also.  My  name 
is  Von  Boeder." 

"Obermuller  is  mine.  Professor  Anton 
von  Obermuller,"  said  Norroy,  with  dignity. 

The  two  men  shook  hands  solemnly.  "And 
now  to  find  an  inn, ' '  said  Norroy.  '  '  It  seems 
to  me  that  we  had  better  hunt  for  one  where 
we  see  those  lights  twinkle." 

They  moved  off  down  the  little  slope,  and, 
finding  a  hard-beaten  path,  stuck  to  it.  They 
passed  the  one-storied  huts  of  many  peas 
ants  in  which  a  single  light  cast  a  few  rays 
from  cracks  and  crevices.  A  man  came  from 
the  other  direction.  Norroy  stopped  him. 

"Can  you  direct  us  to  an  inn?"  he  asked. 
The  peasant,  unaccustomed  to  the  sound  of 
the  voices  of  the  nobility,  shrank  back.  It 
was  some  moments  before  he  could  respond 
coherently,  babbling  as  he  did  in  a  queer 
patois  which  partook  of  Slav,  Magyar,  and 
Teuton,  all  rolled  into  one. 

"I  will  show  you,  freiherrs,"  he  said,  in 

223 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

a  final  intelligible  effort. 

He  started  back  the  way  lie  had  come, 
cutting  away  from  the  lights  and  rounding 
the  slope  of  a  hill,  where  a  house,  larger  than 
those  they  had  before  seen,  stood  out  with 
lights  in  all  of  its  three  stories. 

Norroy  tossed  the  peasant  a  florin  and 
stepped  up  to  the  double-barred  door  of  the 
inn ;  but  the  man,  in  an  ecstasy  of  grateful 
ness,  was  before  him,  knocking  loudly  and 
calling  out  in  a  shrill  tone  that  two  of  the 
great  ones  of  the  earth  had  arrived.  As 
he  shouted,  the  bars  were  taken  down  from 
the  inside  and  the  doors  flung  open.  Their 
guide,  with  many  bows,  withdrew,  and  the 
two  government  men  stepped  within  the 
lighted  space. 

It  might  have  been  the  seventeenth  cen 
tury  for  all  the  material  change  that  had 
occurred  in  this  old  roadhouse.  The  ceiling 
was  low  and  heavily  raftered  while  from 
it  hung  hams,  legs  of  mutton  and  other 
meats  in  the  slow  process  of  dry-curing. 
Several  hogsheads  and  barrels,  fitted  with 

224 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

taps,  stood  in  one  corner,  and  bottles,  cob 
webby  and  dusty,  were  arranged  on  shelves 
near  the  fireplace.  The  furniture  was  rough 
and  cut  from  undressed  wood— a  number  of 
heavy  tables,  and  straight-backed,  straight- 
seated  chairs. 

A  bright  blaze  from  the  fireplace  showed 
huge  burning  logs,  casting  a  cheerful,  sub 
dued  glow  over  the  quaint  old  place,  while 
several  lanterns,  hung  from  the  rafters, 
sputtered  smokily,  but  added  little  to  the 
light. 

In  one  corner  at  a  table  sat  four  or  five 
mountaineers  in  their  rude  attire,  who  had 
ceased  guzzling  their  beer  to  stare  in  open- 
eyed  astonishment  at  the  newcomers.  The 
landlord  himself,  a  small,  spare  man  with 
piggish  eyes,  was  nearly  tied  in  a  double 
knot,  so  low:  was  he  endeavoring  to  make 
his  bow. 

"Welcome,  freiherrs,"  he  murmured,  ob 
sequiously.  "Welcome.  Ah!  that  I  should 
have  such  a  humble  place  in  which  to  make 
the  freiherrs  welcome— ah " 

225 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Come,  come,  my  good  man!"  cut  in  Nor- 
roy.  "That  is  not  to  the  point.  It  is  cold 
without.  Therefore,  close  your  door.  We 
have  just  left  the  train,  journeying  from 
Dresig,  and  we  are  hungry.  Prepare  us  some 
food— your  best.  And  wine— your  best— 
you  understand  ? ' ' 

"It  shall  be  so,  freiherrs,"  bowed  the  land 
lord  again.  He  pulled  them  a  table  to  the 
fireplace  and  two  chairs,  assisting  them  to 
remove  their  coats  and  outer  wrappings, 
and  taking  their  hand  baggage.  His  de 
meanor  altered  considerably,  however,  when 
he  approached  the  mountaineers  in  the  cor 
ner. 

"You  cannot  remain  here  now,"  he  said, 
with  much  loftiness.  "The  freiherrs  cannot 
be  troubled  by  the  sight  of  the  base  born. 
Come  again  to-morrow  night,  good  fellows, 
but  to-night— you  see  it  is  impossible  you 
should  stay." 

The  mountaineers  did  not  protest.  The 
days  of  the  feudal  system  were  almost  pres 
ent  in  that  remote  region,  and  they  knew 

226 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

nothing  save  that  they  must  obey  the  will 
of  those  born  to  higher  things  than  they.  So 
the  mountaineers  quitted  the  room  quietly, 
leaving  Norroy  and  Von  Boeder  alone  before 
the  great  blaze. 

"A  quaint  old  place,"  commented  Nor 
roy,  as  the  two  sat  drinking  from  the  huge 
stone  mugs  which  the  landlord  had  brought 
them.  "That  is  all  we  wish  to  drink  now, 
landlord.  Prepare  the  food.  "We  are 
hungry."  , 

The  landlord  bowed  again  and  made  off. 
"Yes,"  repeated  Norroy.  "A  quaint  old 
place.  I  shall  enjoy  the  atmosphere  of 
mediaeval  times  while  unearthing  the  traces 
of  the  neolithic  age.  I  shall  no  doubt  make 
this  my  headquarters " 

Von  Boeder  had  been  eying  the  supposed 
Obermuller  keenly;  and  was  now  satisfied 
from  Norroy  ?s  make-up  and  general  ap 
pearance  that  there  was  no  doubt  that  he 
was  exactly  what  he  had  represented  himself 
to  be. 

"Yes,"  he  agreed,  without  enthusiasm, 

227 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"But  while  the  atmosphere  may  be  what 
you  may  like,  it  is  rather  hard  to  do  without 
one's  bath— and  kindred  comforts  which  go 
with  effete  civilization." 

"True,  true,"  answered  Nbrroy.  "True. 
But  the  atmosphere " 

"And,  after  all,  it  is  a  mere  mock  atmos 
phere,"  interrupted  Von  Boeder,  anxious 
to  rid  himself  of  the  thoughts  that  had  come. 
"A  cross  between  civilization  and  semi-bar 
barism.  There  is  nothing  save  the  shell.  If 
one  were  sure  that  it  were  necessary  to  be 
on  his  guard  for  his  life ;  if  one  felt  that  a 
duel  was  imminent  on  the  slightest  provoca 
tion—something  of  the  shoddy  melodrama 
of  old  which  to-day's  novelists  call  romance 
—then  perhaps  the  atmosphere  might  ap 
peal " 

Norroy's  eyes  twinkled  for  the  moment. 
"Then  you  have  no  fear  of  any  such  cir 
cumstances  ?  I  was  not  so  sure.  They  told 
me  in  Dresig  that  this  place  was  more  or 
less  lawless.  That  it  had  no  laws  save  those 
propounded  by  the  master  of  Eagle's 

228 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Eyrie." 

" Mistress,"  corrected  Von  Boeder.  "The 
Baroness  Aufsberg  is  the  last  of  her  line/" 

"Well,  mistress,  then.  Is  there  not  some 
thing  of  romance  in  that?— a  woman  living 
in  a  castle  overlooking  the  valley,  who  rules 
with  the  high  justice  and  the  low ;  whose  tur 
ret  windows  look  out  on  both  Saxonia  and 
Austria.  The  Lady  of  the  Marches— how  is 
that  ?  It  sounds  like  a  title  from  our  roman- 
cists,  does  it  not?" 

But  the  spirit  of  romance  had  evidently 
not  come  to  Von  Roeder.  "Ach!"  he  re 
marked,  with  some  contempt.  "What  is  she? 
She  rules  no  one.  She  is  like  some  obscure 
justice,  that  is  all.  She  dare  not  sentence  a 
man  to  death  or  imprisonment  for  life; 
nothing  serious  can  be  tried  before  her.  No, 
herr  professor,  I  see  no  romance  in  the  judg 
ment  of  a  few  sheep  stealers  and  cattle 
thieves." 

Norroy  offered  his  cigarette  case  and  the 
men  lighted  cigarettes.  Out  of  the  tail  of 
his  eye,  Norroy  watched  Von  Roeder.  It  was 

229 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

perfectly  evident  that  this  astute  gentleman 
was  not  to  be  pumped  through  indirection. 
But  there  was  something  still  that  Norroy 
felt  that  he  must  learn  before  proceeding, 
and  his  next  spoken  words  were  a  bait  to 
catch  the  unwary. 

"Our  bags!"  he  ejaculated,  suddenly. 
"Where  has  that  old  scoundrel  taken  them? 
I  have  in  mine  many  valuable  things " 

He  broke  off  short  and  cast  a  look  at  Von 
Boeder;  the  secret  agent  of  Saxonia  was 
fumbling  in  his  coat  pocket.  Evidently 
what  he  found  there  reassured  him,  for  his 
composure  returned. 

"No  fear,  I  dare  say,"  said  Von  Boeder. 

"Hell  hardly "  He  looked  around. 

"All !  there  they  are !"  He  pointed  to  a  seat 
built  on  one  side  of  the  fireplace  on  which 
rested  the  effects  of  the  two  men. 

"Ah,  yes!"  agreed  Norroy.  "Quite  so. 
Thank  you,  Herr  von  Boeder."  But  had 
the  Saxonian  secret  agent  known  the  exact 
thing  for  which  Norroy  was  thanking  him, 
his  self-satisfied  smile  would  have  fled  from 


230 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

his  face. 

It  was  an  old  and  often-proved  theory  of 
Norroy  that  in  the  event  of  sudden  danger 
a  person's  hands  will  go  instinctively  to  the 
part  of  the  person  on  which  is  hidden  the 
most  valuable  article  in  his  possession.  At 
that  time,  Norroy  was  perfectly  sure  that 
the  most  valuable  article  in  Von  Boeder's 
possession  was  the  warrant  for  the  arrest 
of  De  Legaspi.  And  Von  Boeder  had  felt 
within  his  upper  coat  pocket ! 

"I  dare  say  I  shall  meet  this  Baroness 
Aufsberg,"  continued  Nbrroy,  after  a  few 
moments  spent  in  introspection.  "I  shall, 
no  doubt,  be  forced  to  present  myself  to  her 
with  my  papers  before  I  shall  be  allowed  to 
roam  about  her  territory  undisturbed.  You 
do  not  chance  to  know  her,  do  you,  Herr 
von  Boeder?" 

"No,"  returned  Von  Boeder.  "I  am  to 
make  her  acquaintance  to-morrow."  He 
spoke  cautiously  and  laboriously,  as  though 
not  quite  sure  of  himself.  "I  am  a  govern 
ment  surveyor,"  he  explained,  with  clumsy 

231 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AtJENT 

mendacity.    "  I  am  to  make  surveys  for  the 
new— railroad." 

Norroy  nodded  gravely.  "I  understand. 
Then  we  shall  no  doubt  journey  there  to 
gether  to-morrow.  Is  it  far  from  here?" 
H  " A  matter  of  four  hours'  journey,  I  have 
been  told.  One  makes  it  on  horseback.  But 
I  am  starting  very  early  in  the  morning,herr 
professor.  At  dawn,  in  fact.  Perhaps  you 
do  not  care  to  rise  at  that  hour " 

"No,"  agreed  Norroy.  "No,  that  is  too 
early  for  me,  Herr  von  Boeder.  Then  you 
will  no  doubt  be  there  when  I  arrive.  How 
ever,  we  shall  see  one  another  again,  I  have 
no  doubt."  Norroy  raised  the  tankard  and 
filled  the  mugs  again  with  the  frothy  beer. 
" Ah !  see,"  he  exclaimed  suddenly.  "Is  not 
that  a  curious  play  of  the  lights  on  yonder 
wall?" 

He  pointed  to  a  place  back  of  Von  Boeder. 
The  secret  agent  turned  instinctively.  At 
the  same  moment,  Norroy 's  hand  shot  over 
the  secret  agent's  mug  of  beer  and  a  thin 
line  of  white  powder  trickled  from  an  open- 

232 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

ed  paper  into  the  beer  mug.  Nbrroy  quickly 
withdrew  the  hand  as  Von  Boeder  faced  him 
again. 

" Yes— it  is  almost  realistic,"  agreed  the 
secret  agent.  "If  you  talk  to  me  long,  pro 
fessor,  you  will  have  me  romantic  also.  Well, 
here's  to  romance!" 

He  raised  his  mug  and  drained  it.  Then 
set  it  down,  tasting  with  a  wry  face. 

"That  is  bad  beer,"  he  affirmed.  "Very 
bad  beer.  Do  you  not  think  so,  herr  profes 
sor?" 

"It  has  a  queer,  bitter  taste,"  agreed  the 
American.  ' '  Yes,  that  is  true. ' '  He  offered 
Von  Boeder  another  cigarette.  "But  we 
cannot  expect  better  in  such  a  place." 

Von  Boeder  refused  the  cigarette.  ' '  No, '  • 
he  said,  resting  his  head  on  one  hand.  "I 
do  not  care  for  another  now.  I  do  not  care 

for  another— now "  He  put  up  the  other 

hand  and  his  head  sank  between  the  two 
palms. 

Norroy  flicked  an  ash  from  his  cigarette 
and  looked  into  the  glowing  fire.  The  light 

233 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

striking  his  face  on  the  off  side  gave  it  a  pe 
culiarly  saturnine  look.  Von  Boeder's  eyes, 
heavy  with  slumber  desire,  caught  the  effect. 

"You  look  like "  Norroy  turned  to 

him  with  a  smile ;  but  the  effect  was  only  in 
tensified,  the  face  contorted  into  grimness. 
"You  look  like,"  repeated  Von  Boeder 
again,  "a  Faustus  devil,  professor— a  Faus- 
tus  devil " 

Norroy  puffed  the  cigarette  tranquilly. 
"That  is  hardly  complimentary  to  me,  Herr 
von  Boeder,"  he  said.  "I  did  not  know 
that  I  possessed  any  physical  attributes  en 
titling  me  to  your  description " 

"A  Faustus  devil— a  Faustus  devil!"  re 
peated  Von  Boeder.  His  eyes  were  closed 
now  and  he  was  mumbling  inconsequential 
things— mere  jumbles  of  words  that  had  no 
connected  meaning.  "Baroness  Aufsberg— 
Mephistopheles,  avaunt!— so  Schreyer— and 

—Marguerite "  Suddenly  he  began  to 

hum  "Soldiers'  Song"  from  Gounod's 
greatest  opera.  "Ha,  ha,  ha,  haha,  haha, 
haha,"  he  crooned.  Norroy  lighted  another 

234 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

cigarette  on  the  butt  of  the  one  he  held  in  his 
hand. 

Von  Boeder  had  ceased  humming.  He 
opened  his  eyes  with  an  effort— a  fight  of 
will  against  the  soporific  influence  of  the 
drug.  "So,  herr  professor,  you  don't  like 
— Faustus  devil?"  he  inquired,  with  a  pug 
nacious  intonation.  "Well,  you  are— Faus 
tus  devil.  Geologist  ?  Liar !  liar !  liar ! "  He 
rose  to  his  feet  as  he  almost  shouted  the 
words  and  his  hand  went  to  his  coat  pocket. 
But  the  coherency,  wrested  from  the  dead 
ened  faculties,  now  paid  the  penalty,  and 
the  man  collapsed  in  the  chair  limply. 

Norroy  took  the  cigarette  from  his  mouth 
and  held  it  between  the  thin  fingers  of  his 
left  hand.  His  right  went  in  the  direction 
of  Von  Boeder's  coat  and  into  the  pocket, 
from  which  the  American  drew  out  a  blue 
envelope  with  the  water-mark  of  the  Sax- 
onia  foreign  office  upon  it.  He  examined  it 
cursorily,  and  his  indefinitely  colored  eyes 
lighted  up  for  a  moment,  then  became  as 
immutable  as  ever. 


235 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

He  put  the  cigarette  between  his  lips 
again  and  both  hands  made  a  minute  search 
of  the  Saxonian's  pockets.  Several  other 
papers  came  to  view,  one  of  which  Norroy 
retained— a  passport,  He  replaced  the  oth 
ers  and  sat  back  in  his  chair  as  the  sound 
of  approaching  footsteps  warned  him  of  the 
near  presence  of  some  one. 

It  was  the  landlord  who  entered  with  the 
food,  smoking  hot.  He  placed  the  various 
platters  on  the  table,  and  a  boy  following 
him  set  several  bottles  of  wine  on  the  floor 
beside  Norroy.  The  American  looked  up 
without  seeming  interest. 

' '  Oh,  landlord ! ' '  he  said.  ' '  My  friend  has 
fallen  asleep.  He  is  very  weary  and  I  do 
not  wish  to  awaken  him.  Send  in  several  of 
your  servants  and  have  them  put  him  to  bed. 
It  does  not  matter  with  regard  to  his  share 
of  the  food.  Here!"  He  tossed  the  man  a 
five-mark  coin. 

"Ah!  your  excellency,  your  excellency," 
bowed  the  landlord,  overcome.  The  cost  of 
the  food  was  hardly  half  a  mark.  He  re- 

236 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

tired  from  the  room  and  called  for  his  sons, 
two  burly  lads,  who,  ~  propping  the  limp 
Saxonian  between  them,  carried  him  out  of 
the  room.  Norroy,  meanwhile,  was  eating 
of  the  fare  which  had  been  set  before  him. 

"Landlord!"  he  said,  imperatively.  The 
man  drew  closer  and  listened  attentively. 
It  was  well  to  listen  to  this  open-handed 
freiherr. 

"I  journey  to  the  Aufsberg  castle  to-night 
—the  Eagle's  Eyrie,  you  understand?"  He 
paused  for  a  moment. 

"To-night?"  queried  the  landlord,  in 
credulously.  "To-night,  freiherrT'  " 

"To-night,"  affirmed  Norroy,  with  decis 
ion.  "And  you  must  find  me  a  guide  and  a 
horse.  The  journey  is  hardly  more  than 
four  hours,  I  believe." 

"Pour,  freiherr,  four?"  The  landlord 
smiled.  "The  distance  is  close  upon  twenty 
miles.  And  it  is  over  a  rough  road,  freiherr. 
Six  hours,  perhaps  seven,  it  may  be  eight— 

Norroy 's  look  was  impatient.     "That  Is 
237 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

as  it  is,"  he  rejoined.  "I  journey  there  to 
night.  I  must  have  a  guide  and  a  horse. 
The  guide  also  must  have  a  horse.  Find 
the  horses  and  the  man,  and  you  shall  have 
another  five  marks,  landlord." 

The  landlord's  smile  was  broad  and  com 
prehensive.  "It  shall  be  as  the  freiherr 
says,"  he  agreed,  subserviently.  "My  son, 
Karl,  my  eldest  born,  shall  be  your  guide. 
The  horses  he  will  secure.  All  shall  be  ready 
when  the  freiherr  says." 

"In  half  an  hour,  then,"  returned  Nor- 
roy.  "Meanwhile  I  will  eat  of  your  most 
excellent  fare,  landlord." 

A  little  later,  the  American  pushed  back 
the  plates  from  him,  and  looked  at  the  chair 
in  which  Von  Boeder  had  sat  a  little  time 
before. 

"No  romance,  eh?"  His  smile  was  cold. 
"No  fear  of  robbery— nothing  of  the  sort, 
eh?"  Again  he  smiled  less  frigidly.  He 
was  tolerably  well  pleased  with  the  night's 
work.  "And  that  powder  is  always  good 
for  a  sleep  of  forty-eight  hours— forty-eight 

238 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

hours."  Norroy  ruminated.  "Much  may 
happen  in  forty-eight  hours.  Much!"  He 
took  the  paper  from  the  blue  envelope  and 
unfolded  it.  "His  imperial  majesty's  com 
mission—  Senor  Catorro  —  anarchist  —  held 
by  the  Baroness  von  Aufsberg— do  hereby 
relegate  to  our  trustworthy  servant,  Otto 
von  Boeder,  authority  to " 

Norroy  broke  off  from  his  perusal  of  the 
document.  "These  Saxonians  will  never 
learn,"  he  announced  to  the  flames.  "They 
will  never  learn  that  it  is  unsafe  to  give 
papers  of  this  sort.  I  have  never  held  a 
written  commission.  No  fear  of  the  secre 
tary  doing  that."  He  gazed  at  the  blue 
paper  speculatively,  then  thrust  it  back  in 
to  its  envelope. 

"The  soldiers  leave  Sfchmucken  to-mor 
row  at  eight  in  the  morning."  He  was  re 
ferring  to  his  notebook  in  which  were  in 
scribed  many  cabalistic-like  characters. 
"Leaving  Schmucken  at  eight."  He  referred 
again  to  some  figures  and  trigonometrical 
designs.  "They  will  arrive  at  Aufsberg 

239 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

about  eleven." 

He  replaced  the  notebook  in  his  pocket. 
"While  I  leave  Kron  at"— he  consulted  his 
watch-— "eight-thirty,  arriving  at  Aufsberg 
at  least  by  dawn " 

He  smiled  contentedly  and  lighted  an 
other  cigarette.  "So  Von  Eoeder  thinks 
there  is  no  romance  left. ' '  His  smile  became 
almost  a  laugh.  "Perhaps  he's  right.  I 
have  no  doubt  he'll  see  little  romance  in  the 
affair.  And  yet  it  doesn't  differ  greatly 
from  what  our  swashbuckling  ancestors 
went  through,  according  to  history.  Ah— 
well!"  He  stretched  himself,  yawned  and 
arose.  "The  powder; is  good,  for  forty- 
eight  hours— forty-eight ' ' 

He  opened  his  traveling  bag  and  drew  out 
a  pair  of  riding  breeches  land  leather  put 
tees.  Standing  in  the  shadow  of  the  fire 
place,  he  drew  off  his  trousers  and  tossed 
them  on  a  settle,  after  which  he  drew  on  the 
brown  breeches,  buttoned  them  down  the 
legs  and  buckled  on  the  puttees. 

"Landlord!"  he  caUed.     He  folded  the 

240 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

trousers  and  placed  them  in  the  bag,  which 
he  locked. 

"Yes,  freiherr,"  answered  the  landlord, 
appearing  at  the  head  of  the  stairs.  "Karl 
is  near  to  being  ready.  It  will  be  but  little 
time  before  he  joins  you." 

Norroy  transferred  a  revolver  from  his 
coat  pocket  to  his  breeches,  and  toyed  with 
a  short  riding  crop. 

"No  romance!"  he  laughed  again. 


241 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  BETRAYAL. 

"  There,  freiherr,"  said  the  boy  Karl. 
"  There  is  Castle  Aufsberg.  They  call  it  the 
Eagle's  Eyrie  hereabouts,"  he  added,  ex 
planatorily. 

The  dawn  had  come  hours  before.  The 
sun  was  shining  brilliantly  upon  the  moun 
tain  peaks,  converting  their  snowy  crests  in 
to  veritable  similitudes  of  molten  silver.  A 
mile  or  two  in  the  distance,  just  visible  upon 
the  turning  of  the  path,  a  mass  of  whitish- 
gray  stone  stood  out  upon  a  spur  of  the 
mountain  like  a  picture  of  the  olden  time. 
It  was  all  there ;  no  detail  was  missing ;  the 
towers,  turrets,  battlements,  moat,  draw 
bridge  and  all ;  and  the  huge  pile  of  masonry 
stood  out  aggressively,  as  though  menacing 
those  who  approached. 

Norroy  glanced  at  his  watch.     It  was 

242 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

nearly  nine  o'clock.  For  close  upon  twelve 
hours,  through  cold,  wind  and  sleet,  these 
two  had  ridden.  Norroy  was  chilled  to  the 
bone,  and  his  ulster  soaked  with  the  drizzle 
of  overnight.  Their  horses  limped  painful- 

iy. 

"Well,  we  must  push  on,  Karl,"  he  said, 
subduing  his  weariness.  "When  we  get 
there,  we  shall  have  all  the  rest  that  we 
need;  and  warmth  also."  He  shivered  in 
the  cold  rush  of  wind.  "We  must  put  the 
horses  to  it.  Come,  boy!" 

It  was  necessary  to  lay  the  whips  over 
the  heads  of  the  beasts  before  they  could  be 
urged  to  pull  their  tired  limbs  over  the  rocky 
road.  They  moved  forward  slowly. 

Close  upon  an  hour  later,  they  rode  across 
the  drawbridge,  which  was  down,  and  into 
the  courtyard  of  the  old  castle.  A  liveried 
retainer  came  forward  to  hold  their  horses. 

"You  will  see  that  this  youth  has  food  and 
a  change  of  clothes,"  said  Norroy  to  the 
groom.  ' '  Take  him  into  the  servants '  quart 


ers.' 


243 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"It  shall  be  done,"  said  a  second  man. 
who  had  just  come  up.  He  also  was  in  livery 
which,  albeit  somewhat  frayed,  had  once 
been  expensive.  Norroy  surmised,  quite 
rightly,  that  he  was  the  major-domo. 

"The  Herr  Otto  von  Roeder  to  see  the 
baroness,"  he  said,  curtly. 

The  major-domo  bowed.  "If  the  freiherr 
will  follow  me,"  he  said,  with  respect. 

Norroy  walked  wearily  across  the  paved 
courtyard  and  up  the  great  stone  steps  of 
the  main  entrance,  the  doors  of  which  were 
thrown  open  with  great  promptitude  at  a 
sharp  knock  from  the  major-domo.  The 
American  passed  into  a  stone  hall,  arched 
loftily,  and  followed  the  major-domo  along 
its  gloomy  length  to  a  second  flight  of  stairs, 
broad,  and  of  oak,  ornamented  with  balus 
trades  carved  quaintly,  a  stone  figure  hold 
ing  aloft  a  torch  appearing  in  regular  in 
tervals  on  either  side.  The  magnitude  of  the 
castle  appalled  him  for  the  moment. 

But  the  room  into  which  he  was  ushered 
might  have  been  one  in  the  city  residence  of 

244 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

any  European  of  moderate  wealth.  It  was 
grotesquely  tapestried  and  wainscoted,  it 
is  true,  but  the  little  tables  here  and  there 
holding  vases  of  flowers,  books  and  trifling 
ornaments,  made  Norroy  more  at  ease.  Here 
were  signs  of  recent  occupancy  in  the  opened 
volumes  and  the  half -finished  needle-work. 
The  oriel  windows  were  not  even  stained  and 
the  sun  came  brightly  through  them. 

"  Madame 's  private  reception  room^"  the 
major-domo  informed  him.  "I  will  now 
call  madame." 

Observing  a  hand  mirror  on  one  of  the 
tables,  Norroy  drew  out  his  pocket-handker 
chief  and  began  to  remove  from  his  count 
enance  the  traces  of  the  wind  and  weather  of 
the  night.  He  threw  off  his  ulster  and 
smoothed  his  hair.  His  stock  collar  was  for 
tunately  of  a  neutral  shade  and  did  not  show 
the  dirt ;  this  he  arranged  to  his  satisfaction 
and  thrust  the  pin  more  securely  in  place. 

A  few  moments  later,  he  heard  the  un 
mistakable  frou-frou  of  skirts  in  the  hall 
way,  and,  picking  up  a  book,  pretended  to  bo 

245 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

immersed  in  its  contents. 

"Herr  von  Koeder!" 

Norroy  placed  the  book  on  a  near-by  table, 
rose  and  bowed  to  a  rather  comely  woman 
in  gray  who  had  just  entered.  There  was 
something  alluring,  he  admitted,  about  the 
soft,  yellow  hair,  something  appealing  about 
the  mouth,  and  the  blue  eyes  looked  as 
though  they  might,  at  will,  become  soft  and 
melting.  But  as  she  spoke,  they  were  as 
hard  and  cold  as  Norroy's  own. 

"Madame?"  he  half  questioned. 

"I  understood  that  you  were  to  come, 
Herr  von  Eoeder.  Won't  you  sit  down?" 
She  motioned  him  to  a  chair  near  which  she 
stood  and  he  followed  her  action. 

"You  come  at  a  strange  hour,"  she  pur 
sued.  "I  understood  the  message  from 
Count  Schreyer  to  read  that  you  would  not 
arrive  until  late  this  afternoon.  That  was 
the  reason  the  soldiers  were  ordered  from 
Schmucken." 

He  nodded.  "I  have  traveled  all  night," 
he  replied.  "I  saw  no  need  of  chopping  the 

246 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

journey.  Yes,  it  was  rather  a  useless  thing 
to  send  the  soldiers— although  precaution 
ary.  But  I  rather  fancy,  baroness,  that  I 
shall  be  able  to  manage  without  the  aid  of 
the  military.  Or  even  of  your  household." 

Her  lip  curved  petulantly.  ' '  Perhaps  you 
underestimate  your  man,  Herr  von  Roeder," 
she  said.  "I  can  assure  you  he  is  not  easy 
to  handle.  That  is  why  I  asked  for  the  sol 
diers.  I  thought  they  would  be  needed  on  the 
journey  between  here  and  Kron.  After  you 
have  reached  the  train,  all  will  be  simple 
enough." 

Norroy  nodded  again.  "May  I  smoke? 
Thank  you."  He  lighted  a  cigarette.  "I 
presume  that  De  Legaspi  is  here  now—in 
the  castle " 

"  We  breakfasted  together— an  hour  ago," 
she  returned.  "And  he  has  gone  off  to  gath 
er  snow  flowers.  He  knows  how  much  I  care 

for  flowers— and  he "  She  suddenly 

realized  what  she  was  saying,  and  noted  the 
sneer  on  Norroy  ?s  lip. 

"You  must  care  greatly  for  him,  ma- 

247 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

dame,'7  he  said,  mockingly.  She  flushed. 
"But  my  orders  are  to  be  quick.  I  cannot 

even  stop  here  to  change  my  clothes "  He 

pulled  the  blue  envelope  from  his  pocket. 
"There  is  my  commission,  baroness." 

She  glanced  at  it  carelessly,  then  handed 
it  back.  "Oh,  yes,  I  knew  of  that.  But  you 
do  not  ask  me  how  I  managed  to  get  this  man 
across  the  border." 

Norroy's  lip  curled  slightly.  "No,  I  do 
not,"  he  returned.  "I  have  been  a  secret 
agent  for  some  time,  baroness,  and  I  know 
the  use  that  women  are  in  the  profession-— 
especially  so  when  they  are  beautiful  as  you 
are.  But  we  waste  time.  If  you  will  oblige 
me,  please  ring  for  a  servant  and  have  him 
bring  this  De  Legaspi  here." 

The  look  which  the  woman  vouchsafed 
Norroy  was  hardly  one  which  would  have 
encouraged  a  lover,  for  Norroy  ?s  tone  was 
taunting  and  full  of  bitter  courtesy.  She 
realized  that  in  this  man's  estimation  she 
stood  very  low  indeed,  and  that  her  rank  did 
not  save  her  in  the  slightest  with  him.  Ee- 

248 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

pressing  the  impulsive  reply  that  sprang 
to  her  lips,  she  arose  and  touched  the  button. 
Norroy  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  nearing 
eleven  o'clock.  The  soldiers  were  due  to  ar 
rive  by  that  time. 

Norroy  picked  up  the  book  which  he  had 
been  perusing  and  allowed  his  eyes  to  wan 
der  over  the  printed  pages,  turning  leaf  after 
leaf  and  apparently  absorbed,  but  really  not 
reading  a  word.  The  baroness  followed  his 
example  and  they  sat  silent  for  the  better 
part  of  half  an  hour,  at  the  end  of  which 
time  a  servant  knocked. 

"The  Herr  Legaspi  has  returned,  ma- 
dame,"  he  said,  bowing  very  low.  "He  is 
in  the  hall  and  waiting " 

"Tell  him  to  come  here,"  she  said,  curtly. 

The  servant  retired,  and  a  moment  later  a 
man  of  some  thirty-seven  or  eight  years, 
with  glossy  black  hair  tinged  with  gray  and 
the  oval,  olive-skinned  face  of  one  of  the 
Latin  races,  entered.  He  was  rather  a  good- 
looking  man,  Norroy  thought,  and,  looking 
at  the  firm  jaw,  he  wondered  that  he  could 

249 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

have  been  so  easily  made  the  fool. 

He  came  in  almost  impetuously.  "Elsa," 
he  began,  coming  forward  with  hands  out 
stretched.  Then  he  noted  Norroy  and 
stopped.  The  men  inspected  one  another 
coldly,  and  Norroy's  right  hand,  which  he 
held  behind  his  back,  trembled  slightly. 

"Senor  Emilio  de  Legaspi?"  queried  Nor- 
roy. 

The  South  American  bowed. 

The  hand  behind  the  back  came  into  view 
holding  a  small  Eemington.  "You  are  my 
prisoner,  senor,"  said  Norroy.  "I  am  an 
agent  of  the  Saxonian  foreign  office.  You 
might  have  been  well  aware  of  your  danger 
in  crossing  Saxonia's  border." 

He  kept  his  eyes  steadily  on  the  Andevian. 
De  Legaspi  was  stunned.  He  tried  to  smile. 
Then  he  turned  to  the  baroness,  who  stood, 
hard  and  cold,  looking  toward  the  window. 

"You— Elsa— you  will "  She  gazed 

at  him  impassively,  and  the  man  read  in  her 
eyes  what  he  was  afraid  to  believe.  "  You— 
you— Elsa— ah,  God!" 

250 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

For  a  moment  he  stood  with  bowed  head ; 
then  he  looked  again  toward  Norroy.  The 
Remington  still  covered  him  squarely. 
1  "Will  you  give  me  your  parole  not  to  at 
tempt  escape?"  queried  Norroy.  "Other 
wise,  I  shall  be  forced  to  handcuff  you— 
which  I  do  not  care  to  do." 

The  Andevian  looked  around  for  a  mo 
ment,  hopelessly.  "You  know  that  this  is 
an  outrage,  senor,"  he  commented,  com 
pressing  his  lips  in  his  endeavor  to  show  no 
emotion.  "You  know  that  Saxonia  can  be 
made  to  answer  for  this." 

"Quite  true,  senor,"  returned  Norroy. 
"But  no  one  knows  that  you  came  over  the 
mountains  from  Austria.  You  came  dis 
guised.  You  came  with  a  false  passport. 
News  does  not  leak  out  of  Saxonia  prisons, 
senor." 

The  man  understood  and  gave  vent  to  a 
low,  hoarse  cry.  "A  prisoner— for  life— 
that  is  what  you  mean.  My  parole!  My 
parole !  No,  I  shall  give  you  no  parole— no 
"  He  had  darted  for  the  door,  but  Nor- 

251 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

roy,  ever-watchful,  caught  his  hands,  drop 
ping  the  revolver  as  he  did  so.  The  next  mo 
ment  the  Andevian's  wrists  were  encircled 
by  a  steel  ring  which  Norroy  had  snapped 
upon  him. 

The  American  stepped  back  and  picked 
up  the  revolver,  which  he  replaced  in  his 
pocket.  "I  am  sorry  to  do  this,  senor,"  he 
said,  courteously.  "But  I  have  no  choice.'5 

But  the  Andevian  was  not  paying  atten 
tion.  He  was  looking  at  the  woman.  "Elsa!" 
he  said,  slowly.  "Elsa!  I  never  before 
knew  how  black  a  woman's  heart  could  be. 
God  forgive  me,  I  never  knew." 

From  the  woman  there  came  not  a  sign. 
She  had  seated  herself  and  was  gazing  out 
of  a  near-by  window,  her  face  set  in  hard 
lines,  and  the  beauty  gone  out  of  it  with  the 
ashen  hue  that  overspread  it. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence;  then 
came  a  knock  on  the  door. 

"Enter,"  commanded  the  baroness. 

A  servant  obeyed  the  command.  "Sol 
diers  have  arrived  from  Schmucken,  ma- 

252 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

dame,"  he  said.  " Their  captain  wishes  to 
have  an  audience." 

* *  Show  him  in,"  said  the  baroness,  dully. 

The  servant  disappeared,  to  come  into 
sight  again  announcing:  "Lieutenant  Al- 
brecht  von  Moser." 

The  young  soldier  strode  forward,  his  cap 
in  his  hand,  clicking  his  heels  together  and 
bowing  at  the  sight  of  the  baroness. 

"You  know  why  I  have  come,  baroness," 
he  said.  "I  have  orders  to  arrest  a  certain 
man  named  Catorro,  who  is  said  to  be  here." 

"That,  lieutenant,"  smiled  Norroy,  step 
ping  forward,  "is  not  possible," 

The  lieutenant  eyed  him  suspiciously, 
then  arrogantly.  One  glance  at  Norroy,  in 
his  disguise,  was  enough  to  show  the  lieu 
tenant  that  he  belonged  to  neither  the  no 
bility  nor  military.  Therefore,  being  of  the 
military,  Lieutenant  von  Moser  had  the 
right  to  be  condescending. 

"What  do  you  mean,  my  good  fellow?"  he 
wished  to  know. 

Norroy  laughed  shortly.     "I  mean  that 

253 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Ke  has  already  surrendered  to  me;  and,  as 
your  superior,  I  am  entitled  to  a  salute,  sir. 
I  am  Captain  Otto  von  Boeder,  lieutenant, 
and  Catorro,  or  Legaspi,  is  my  prisoner. 
Salute,  sir." 

" Where  is  your  commission?  I  don't 
know  you.  I  can't  take  your  word,  you 
know."  The  lieutenant  was  visibly  dis 
quieted. 

Norroy  handed  him  the  paper.  Von  Mos- 
er  glanced  at  it.  Then,  clicking  his  heels 
together,  he  gave  the  document  back  to  Nor- 
roy,  and  brought  his  hand  to  the  side  of  his 
head  in  grave  salute. 

" Quite  so,  captain,"  he  said.  "I  apolo 
gize.  Have  you  any  need  for  me  or  for  my 
men?" 

"None  whatever,"  repliedNorroy.  " There 
is  the  prisoner."  He  pointed  to  the  man 
acled  Legaspi.  "You  see,  I  am  quite  able 
to  manage  him.  You  and  your  men  may  re 
turn  to  Schmucken,  lieutenant." 


254 


CHAPTEK  IV. 

OVER  THE  MOUNTAINS  TO  AUSTEIA. 

A  short  while  after  the  soldiers  disap 
peared  over  the  slope  of  the  mountains,  re 
turning  to  their  post  at  Schmucken,  a  little 
cavalcade,  composed  of  Yorke  Norroy,  Emi- 
lio  de  Legaspi,  and  Karl,  the  landlord's  son, 
struck  off  the  main  road  toward  Kron,  to 
ward  which  they  had  apparently  started 
when  they  left  the  Castle  of  Auf  sberg. 

Karl,  boy,"  said  Norroy,  in  German, 
we  are  not  going  back  to  Kron.  We  must 
cut  off  here  and  make  our  way  toward  the 
Saxonian  frontier.  We  are  going  into 
Austria,  you  understand." 

The  boy  did  not  question  nor  did  he  seem 
surprised.  It  was  his  duty  to  obey.  "I 
know  a  road,  freiherr.  It  is  past  the  fron 
tier  guard  at  Erckberg.  There  is  no  other 
way  save  by  Hohejuch,  which  is  longer.7' 

"By  Erckberg,  then,"  saidNorroy,  briefly, 


u 
it 


255 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

and  he  fell  back  abreast  with  Legaspi,  who 
was  finding  some  trouble  in  holding  the 
bridle  reins  with  his  manacled  hands.  Nor- 
roy  leaned  over  the  saddle,  fitted  a  tiny  key 
in  the  lock,  and  unsnapped  the  manacles. 

"No,  no,"  he  disclaimed.  "I  don't  ask 
you  for  your  parole.  I  only  ask  you  not  to 
be  a  fool  again,  Senor  de  Legaspi.  Tou  are 
a  free  man." 

" What— what?"  stammered  the  Ande- 
vian.  "Jesting  again,  senor?" 

Norroy  drew  a  revolver  from  his  pocket 
and  handed  it  to  the  Andevian.  "You  may 
judge  from  that  whether  I  jest  or  not.  It 
is  loaded.  Oh !  I  can  understand,  senor,  that 
it  is  strange  to  you ;  but  it  can  be  no  stranger 
than  your  conduct  has  been  to  me.  I  am  an 
agent  of  the  government  of  the  United 
States,  senor,  sent  to  pull  you  out  of  the  trap 
which  you  managed  to  dig  for  yourself.  Tou 
have  been  a  fool!" 

"I  do  not  understand,"  gasped  the  An 
devian.  "I  do  not  understand." 

As  briefly  as  the  incidents  made  it  possible, 

256 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Yorke  Norroy  narrated  the  tale.  At  its  con 
clusion,  he  interrupted  the  Andevian  in 
stantly  upon  that  gentleman  beginning  fer 
vid  protestations  of  undying  gratitude. 

"Rather  let  us  say,  Senor  de  Legaspi,  that 
one  who  is  to  be  the  chief  executive  of  An- 
devia  had  best  preserve  his  wits  to  such  an 
extent  as  to  fall  into  no  more  traps  of  the 
sort  set  by  pretty  women.  I  have  pulled  you 
out  of  this  one,  at  the  expense  of  the  United 
States,  for  I  have  been  forced  to  leave  un 
discovered  certain  matters  which  called  me 
to  Dresig." 

The  Andevian  twisted  his  thin  fingers  to 
gether.  "Ah,  senor,  how  can  I  ever  atone  ?" 

"By  never  making  another  blunder  of  the 
sort,"  replied  Norroy.  "Pretty  women  are 
everywhere  used  by  nations  as  diplomatic 
tools,  and  the  prettier  and  the  more  fascinat 
ing  they  are,  the  more  dangerous.  You  can 
atone  by  not  letting  another  make  a  fool  of 
you.  Also,  you  will  do  well  to  remember  that 
the  United  States  kept  you  from  lifelong 
imprisonment  in  a  Saxonian  fort ;  that  you 

257 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

can  remember  when  you  come  to  be  president 
of  Andevia." 

"But  you,  senor?"  cried  the  Andevian, 
earnestly.  *  *  How  can  I  ever  repay  you  ? ' ' 

"The  United  States  pays  me  for  this 
work,"  cut  in  Norroy,  coldly.  "But  we  are 
not  yet  out  of  the  woods,  Stenor  Legaspi. 
Karl,  halt  the  horse,  and  remain  where  you 
are  for  a  moment  or  so.  Do  not  look  behind 
you." 

Obediently,  the  young  Saxonian  pulled  in 
his  horse  and  sat  motionless  in  the  saddle. 
From  the  dispatch  bag,  which  he  carried 
slung  over  his  shoulder,  Norroy  pulled  a 
wig  of  brown  hair,  and  a  mustache  of  the 
same  variety.  Leaning  over  in  his  saddle, 
he  adjusted  these  to  the  face  of  Legaspi. 
With  a  steady  hand,  he  applied  a  camel 's- 
hair  brush  to  the  eyebrows  and  lashes  of  the 
Andevian,  and,  with  different  dyes  and 
paints,  taken  from  various  compartments  of 
the  bag,  so  altered  that  gentleman's  counte 
nance  that  in  it  Legaspi  saw  no  traces  of 
himself  when  shown  the  hand  mirror. 


258 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"And  here,"  concluded  Norroy,  after  re 
placing  the  various  articles  in  the  bag,  "is 
the  pass  of  one  Anton  von  Obermuller,  which 
you  will  present  when  questioned  by  the  of 
ficials  on  the  frontier." 

"But  for  yourself,  senor?" 

"I  have  the  passport  of  one  Otto  yon 
Boeder,"  said  Norroy,  with  a  smile. 

"On  government  business,  lieutenant," 
said  Norroy,  with  a  portentous  frown,  when 
the  file  of  soldiers  closed  around  him  at  the 
mountain  pass  of  Erckberg.  A  few  paces 
away  lay  Austria,  and  between  it  and  the 
three  stood  the  soldiers.  Norroy  handed 
them  his  passport. 

"  Ah !  Otto  von  Boeder— Captain  von  Boe 
der,  is  it  not?"  The  lieutenant  drew  back 
and  saluted.  "My  nameisDurer.  We  have 
heard  much  of  the  famous  Otto  von  Boeder 
here,  captain.  And  the  other  gentleman?" 

"My  confrere,  Herr  von  Obermuller,"  ex 
plained  Norroy.  Legaspi  handed  them  the 
pass  silently.  He  was  afraid  to  speak  in  his 
faulty  German,  and  Norroy  had  bidden  him 

259 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

not  to  do  so. 

"Quite  right— quite  right,"  agreed  the 
lieutenant.  "And  so  you  go  to  Austria,  gen 
tlemen?  I  wish  you  a  very  pleasant  jour 
ney."  He  drew  back,  and  saluted  again. 
The  soldiers  raised  their  carbines,  and  Nor- 
roy,,  Legaspi  and  the  boy,  Karl,  passed  over 
the  frontier  and  into  Austria,  where  Legaspi 
was  beyond  the  reach  of  Saxonian  law. 

When  the  guards  had  been  left  far  behind, 
Norroy  turned  abruptly  to  Legaspi.  "Ill 
tell  you  of  something  you  may  do,"  he  said, 
and  there  was  a  tinge  of  kindliness  in  his 
voice.  "Tkis  boy  Karl  here  has  been  your 
means  of  salvation.  Had  it  not  been  for 
him,  I  could  never  have  threaded  the  moun 
tain  passes.  Had  it  not  been  for  his  silence 
at  the  frontier,  we  should  both  have  been  im 
prisoned.  Now,  as  you  know,  this  boy  can 
never  return  to  his  own  country.  So  take 
him  with  you,  Legaspi ;  take  him  with  you  to 
Andevia,  and  give  him  a  position  of  trust- 
but  give  him  an  education  first.  You  will 

260 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

do  this?    Thank  you!" 

And  so  a  man  of  affairs  was  made  from  a 
peasant  lad ;  a  man  whom  they  say  will  one 
day  rule  Andevia.  But  that  is  prophecy 
with  which  we  have  nothing  to  do. 

Norroy  returned  to  Washington  some 
three  weeks  later,  just  in  time  to  act  as  mas 
ter  of  ceremonies  in  the  fourth  cotillion  of 
the  season. 


261 


A  Yankee  Knight  Errant 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  " SOLDIERS  OF  FORTUNE/' 

Here,  there,  devil-may-care,  where  my  sword 
may  lead,  I'll  follow, 

Honor's  crown  awaits  tbe  brave,  fortune 
mocks  the  timid  knave. 

Biff!  Bang  I  let  tbe  steel  clang,  words  with 
out  the  deeds  are  hollow. 

Sword  in  hand,  at  love's  command,  I'll  do 
or  die! 

Holforness  had  picked  up  a  copy  of  this 
song  somewhere,  and  so  constantly  had  he 
sung  it  since  that  time  that  his  fellows  had 
gradually  learned  it,  adopting  it  for  their 
slogan.  There  were  five  men  who  sang  the 
ditty,  three  Americans  and  two  Englishmen, 
and  they  sat  in  the  taproom  of  the  Salambo, 

263 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 
Port  Arthur's  hostelry  most  beloved  by  the 


Anglo-Saxon. 


Gerald  Holforness  was  certainly  not  so 
ber,  neither  were  his  companions,  else  they 
would  not  have  continued  to  sing,  seeing 
that  it  much  displeased  the  other  occupants 
of  the  cafe.  To  tell  the  truth,  Russian  vodka 
was  not  a  fit  drink  for  Mr.  Holforness  and 
his  confreres.  Their  beverage  should  have 
been  beer. 

The  sixth  man  at  the  table  was  a  nonde 
script,  when  it  came  to  a  matter  o'f  determin 
ing  his  nationality.  The  closely  clipped  Van 
dyke  beard  which  he  wore  and  the  curling 
mustache  might  have  inclined  one  to  the 
belief  that  he  was  a  Frenchman.  But  some 
how  this  impression  did  not  last  when  his 
indefinitely  colored  eyes  were  turned  on  the 
spectator.  He  was  slender,  almost  boyish, 
in  the  lines  of  his  figure,  but  his  shoulders 
were  square  and  aggressive.  Beneath  the 
hair  on  his  face,  the  thin  lips  and  firm  jaw 
showed  a  spirit  which  was  almost  bulldog- 
gish,  yet  his  slim,  daintily  manicured,  almost 

264 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

womanish  fingers,  and  high-arched  instep 
within  high-heeled  tan  riding  boots  seemed 
marvelously  out  of  the  drawing. 

He  was  attired  in  a  uniform  of  khaki 
serge,  cut  after  the  latest  London  fashion 
plates  for  his  majesty's  service,  and  the  Nor 
folk  belt  encircled  a  waist  so  slim  that  a  wo 
man  might  have  envied  it.  In  one  hand  he 
carried  a  riding  crop  of  ebony,  trimmed 
with  silver,  with  which  he  occasionally 
flicked  small  particles  of  dust  from  his  bag 
gy  breeches. 

"Oh!  I  say,"  he  broke  in,  when  Holfor- 
ness  had  chanted  the  song  for  the  fourth 
time.  "Oh !  I  say,  old  chap,  cut  that  bloom 
ing  noise,  will  you?" 

Holforness  turned  on  him;  indignantly. 
"Inten'  t'sing  shong  musher  please,"  he  re 
torted,  with  drunken  dignity.  "I'm  Gerald 
Holfornesh,  soldier'  fortune,  Missher  War- 
rendell.  I'm  soldier 'fortune.  Whashsay?" 

"I  say  you're  a  howling  ass,"  retorted  the 
man  called  Warrendell,  rising.  "A  howl 
ing  ass,  and  you  make  entirely  too  much 

265 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

noise.    Soldier  of  fortune—  pooh'!" 

"Missher  Warrendell,"  continued  Holfor- 
ness,  retaining  Ms  balance  by  a  nice  calcula 
tion  of  equilibrium.  "Very  goodsh;  you're 
Britisher sh  like  m'self,  else  you  couldn't 
shaysh  things  to  me.  I'm  soldier 'fortune, 
Missher  Warrendell,  an'  I  fightsh  man  f 'r 
less'n  that." 

Maddison,  the  American  correspondent, 
raised  his  glass  with  an  unsteady  hand. 
' '  Here 's  to  England ! "  he  shouted.  '  *  Here 's 
to  England!" 

Holforness  seized  his  own  glass.  "Here's 
to  United  Shates,  old  fellowsh,  here'sh  to 
England,  United  Shates,  and— Japan!" 

"Well,  of  all  the  bloody  fools!"  comment 
ed  Warrendell. 

The  Russian  officers  who  were  drinking 
near  by  rose  to  their  feet  and  cast  threat 
ening  glances  at  the  bold  group  that  dared 
mouth  their  enemy's  name  within  the  very 
portals  of  Russian  domination.  Although  it 
was  not  yet  war  time,  the  feeling  was  bitter, 
as  might  have  been  expected. 

266 


" 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Warrendell  moved  toward  them,  and 
spoke  in  French.  "They  are  drunk,  mes 
sieurs,"  he  explained,  courteously. 

"  An  excess  of  wine  often  betokens  the  true 
state  of  mind,"  returned  the  lieutenant  of 
artillery  whom  he  addressed.  "But  it  is 
as  you  say,  they  are  drunk.  Otherwise  I 
myself  would  hold  them  to  account. 
you  not  drink  with  us,  M.  Warrendell? 

Warrendell  refused  politely.  "I  have 
taken  too  much  already,"  he  said.  "My 
compatriots  are  not  wise  men  in  the  matter 
of  vodka.  And,  besides,  I  must  have  a  clear 
head  for  my  journey  to-morrow." 

"You  are  leaving  us?"  queried  a  major 
of  infantry. 

"I  go  to  Chef  oo  by  the  Loongscmg  at  three 
o'clock  to-morrow  morning.  She  sails  with 
the  tide.  I  must  be  aboard  her  ere  mid 
night." 

He  shook  hands  with  them,  and  went  out, 
walking  down  the  Pushkin  Ulitze  toward 
the  Bund.  He  was  perfectly  well  aware  of 
the  fact  that  the  Eussians  knew  beforehand 


267 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

that  he  was  leaving  the  Manchurian  fortress 
that  day,  else  he  would  not  have  told  them. 
Previous  experience  with  the  secret  service 
of  the  czar  had  taught  him  that  but  little  was 
concealed  from  the  imperial  Russian  police. 

He  was  glad  that  his  month's  stay  in  Port 
Arthur  was  coming  to  an  end.  It  had  been 
very  distasteful  to  him,  used  as  he  was  to 
trickiness,  deception,  and  treachery.  But  be 
fore  he  had  been,  working  for  his  own 
country.  Now  he  was  laboring  in  the  cause 
of  the  little  brown  men  whom  he  disliked— 
disliked  extremely.  He  was  almost  sorry 
that  his  plans  had  been  consummated. 

To  those  who  knew  Yorke  Norroy  to  be  a 
diplomatic  agent,  little  surprise  would  have 
been  expressed  if  this  apparently  dyed-in- 
the-wool  Britisher  with  the  Georgian  accent, 
monocle  and  Picadilly  clothes  would  have 
disclosed  his  true  identity.  For  Cecil  War- 
rendell  was  only  another  of  the  many  aliases, 
and  the  get-up  a  new  disguise,  used  for  the 
purpose  of  cloaking  the  real  man  from  the 
too  curious  public. 

268 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Norroy  was  a  man  of  few  scruples  when 
engaged  in  his  chosen  work ;  but  up  to  this 
time  he  had  not  served  any  country  other 
than  his  own.  Had  he  been  engaged  in  the 
same  work  which  now  occupied  him  for  the 
state  department  of  his  native  land,  he  would 
have  felt  no  compunction  whatever  in  doing 
exactly  what  had  been  his  chief  concern 
since  he  had  been  in  Port  Arthur.  As  it 
was,  he  felt  that  he  had  no  excuse. 

But,  after  all,  it  was  the  fault  of  the 
minister  to  Japan!  What  right  had  he  to 
reveal  Norroy  without  disguise  to  the  mika 
do  's  ministers?  None  whatever,  argued  the 
secret  agent. 

Briefly,  it  had  all  come  about  in  this  man 
ner:  Norroy  had  just  carried  through  a 
diplomatic  deal  in  Korea  which  had  resulted 
in  the  benefit  of  the  United  States  and,  in 
cidentally,  Japan.  Through  it  all,  the  minis 
ter  had  known  him  as  Eobert  Evans,  and 
the  said  Evans  had  looked  no  more  like 
Yorke  Norroy  than  did  Cecil  Warrendell. 
After  the  thing  had  been  over,  Mr.  Eobert 

269 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Evans  had  been  requested  to  hold  a  consulta 
tion  with  Marquis  Ito. 

There  were  many  Poles  in  Port  Arthur, 
Poles  of  noble  birth,  and  principally  officers 
of  the  army  and  marine.  Ito  wanted  a  man 
who  could  arrange  with  these  men  to  obtain 
a  set  of  plans  and  figures  relative  to  the 
fortifications,  armament,  food  supply,  mines, 
and  other  things  concerning  the  Manchurian 
fortress.  Vague  hints  had  been  brought  to 
Ito's  ears  that  these  Poles  were  anxious  to 
see  the  downfall  of  Port  Arthur,  and  would, 
in  return  for  grants  and  privileges  in  the  fu 
ture,  aid  the  Japanese  in  every  way  to  com 
pass  the  possession  of  the  city  by  the  men  of 
Nippon. 

Mr.  Robert  Evans  spoke  Russian,  Polish 
and  Chinese,  incident  ally  French.  Therewere 
few  men  who  could  pass  muster  in  such  an 
array  of  languages,  even  among  the  best  lin 
guists  of  the  Japanese  secret  service.  But 
for  a  Jap  to  chaffer  with  these  men  would 
be  impossible,  for  every  Yamato  who  en 
tered  any  Manchurian  town  was  watched  as 

270 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

keenly  as  though  the  safety  of  Russia  de 
pended  upon  it. 

Therefore,  Mr.  Robert  Evans,  of  the  Unit 
ed  States  Department  of  State.  He  was  a 
friend  to  Japan;  his  country  its  ally.  He 
was  clever  and  spoke  many  languages.  Mar 
quis  Ito  offered  him  a  large  sum. 

Had  Yorke  Norroy  not  been  guilty  of 
reckless  extravagance  the  season  before,  he 
would  have  refused  the  offer  curtly.  As  it 
was,  he  was  heavily  in  debt  and  needed  the 
sum  mentioned.  He  wired  Washington  for 
two  months'  leave.  When  the  request  was 
granted,  he  told  the  marquis  that  he  would 
undertake  to  do  what  Japan  wished.  He  was 
paid  a  certain  amount  for  current  expenses, 
and,  on  his  returning  successful,  the  rather 
large  sum  of  one  hundred  thousand  yen  was 
to  become  his. 

So  Mr.  Cecil  Warrendell  suddenly  ap 
peared  in  Chef  oo  one  day,  and  later  in  Port 
Arthur.  Mr.  Warrendell  was  an  explorer 
and  a  traveler.  He  was  writing  a  book 
about  the  fortresses  of  the  world.  So  fop- 

271 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

pisK,  so  utterly  inane  had  lie  seemed  to  be 
that  his  presence  had  been  almost  unnoticed 
by  the  Russian  police— at  first. 

Sewed  into  the  lining  of  the  secret  agent's 
coat  were  certain  papers  for  which  the  Eus- 
sians  would  have  killed  regiments  rather 
than  the  man  who  carried  them  should  step 
from  Eussian  territory.  Yorke  Norroy 
knew  this,  and,  although  by  quitting  Port 
[Arthur  so  soon  he  was  forced  to  leave  certain 
details  unattended  to,  he  was  of  the  opinion 
that  what  he  had  amply  justified  him.  There- 
f  ore^  he  had  taken  passage  on  the  Loongsang 
that  day,  and  the  next  morning,  before  day 
break,  would  find  him  in  the  Gulf  of  Pe- 
chi-li,  the  vessel's  nose  turned  toward  the 
China  promontory. 

But  the  more  Norroy  thought  over  the 
isubject,  the  more  his  own  actions  disgusted 
him.  It  was  true  that  he  had  never  liked 
[Russians,  but,  since  his  stay  in  Port  Arthur, 
ihe  had  come  into  contact  with  so  many  that 
had  impressed  him  favorably  that  his  senti 
ments  were  gradually  undergoing  a  change, 

272 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

At  least  the  Russians  were  white  men ! 

Another  reason  for  his  self -recriminations 
lay  in  the  fact  of  his  knowing  full  well  what 
Japanese  victory  meant  to  Asia.  For  ten 
years  Norroy  had  been  making  trips  to 
China  on  diplomatic  missions,  and  he  had 
seen  the  influence  of  Nippon  upon  the 
Celestials.  Once  the  Chinese  army  had  been 
officered  with  Europeans.  Now  nearly  all 
of  them  had  been  dismissed  and  Japanese 
officers  put  in  their  places.  China  was  tak 
ing  Japan  for  a  model.  What  if  China 
should  shake  off  her  lethargy  ? 

The  "  Yellow  Peril"  was  no  hallucination 
of  a  disordered  imagination  with  the  cool, 
alert  secret  agent.  He  knew  China's  vast 
dormant  strength ;  knew  the  energy,  the  pa 
tience,  the  skill  of  the  four  hundred  million 
subjects  of  the  Throne-of-a-Thousand-Heav- 
ens.  If  they  ever  took  up  arms  in  earnest, 
the  white  man's  supremacy  would  be  no 
more. 

After  a  brisk  walk  around  the  Bund,  Nor 
roy  went  to  his  hotel.  It  was  growing  dusk, 

273 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

and  tHe  harbor  lights  were  twinkling  from 
all  descriptions  of  vessels  in  the  inclosed 
harbor,  from  the  trading  junks  to  the  huge 
men-of-war.  He  saw  the  Loongsang  moored 
to  the  Butterfield  Swire  wharf,  and,  taking 
out  his  watch,  noted  that  it  was  six  o'clock. 
He  had  still  six  more  hours  of  Port  Arthur. 

He  entered  his  hotel  and  went  to  his  room. 
He  did  not  light  his  lamp,  but  sat  in  the 
darkness,  smoking  contemplatively  and  re 
garding  the  hurrying  droshkis,  the  itinerant 
Chinese  merchants  and  the  Russian  soldiers 
passing  beneath  his  window.  Six  hours 
more,  and  he  would  be  out  of  this  place !  And 
then  —  Shanghai,  the  Ever-Blessed.  He 
smiled  with  pleasure  as  the  brilliantly  light 
ed  dining-room  of  the  Astor  House  came  to 
his  eyes.  He  heard  the  town  band  playing, 
and  saw  the  well-dressed  men  and  women- 
Anglo-Saxons,  every  one  of  them. 

He  threw  away  his  cigarette,  but  did  not 
rise.  Although  it  was  past  the  dinner  hour, 
he  did  not  feel  hungry.  A  distaste  for  Rus 
sian  food  had  taken  possession  of  him. 

274 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

'A  slight  noise  in  the  uncarpeted  hall  with 
out  made  him  sit  up  suddenly.  It  sounded 
as  though  some  one  were  endeavoring  to 
enter  his  apartment  by  stealth.  Naturally 
cautious  and  suspicious  by  long  training, 
Norroy  listened  intently.  He  heard  a  key  be 
ing  turned  in  the  lock,  and  remembered  that 
he  had  his  own  key  in  his  pocket.  He  arose, 
his  hand  touching  his  revolver  buckled  be 
neath  his  blouse,  and  stepped  behind  a  pair 
of  heavy  portieres  which  hid  his  rather 
scanty  wardrobe. 

Almost  noiselessly  the  door  was  opened 
and  the  figures  of  two  men  showed  indistinct 
in  the  darkness. 

"He  cannot  be  here,"  growled  one,  in  a 
low  tone. 

"Exactly  what  we  would  have,  little 
brother,"  returned  the  other.  "Perhaps  he 
has  here  papers  which  we  need.  Strike  a 
light." 

The  tiny  flickering  flame  revealed  two  men 
in  the  uniform  of  the  Russian  police.  The 
wick  of  the  lamp  was  ignited. 

275 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"He  will  be  here  shortly,"  resumed  the 
first  man.  "He  was  last  seen  at  the  Salam- 
bo,  and  has  not  yet  been  to  dinner.  So  we 
must  see  what  we  can  find,  and  then  await 
him  here." 

The  two  men  proceeded  to  break  the  lock 
of  Norroy 's  steamer  trunk  anci  to  throw  out, 
higgledy-piggledy,  his  articles  of  attire. 

"Do  you  believe  this  story,  Mikhail  Mik- 
hailovitch?"  asked  the  second  man.  "Is  it 
possible  that  a  prince  of  Poland  could  be  a 
traitor?" 

"So  says  the  chief,"  returned  Mikhailo- 
vitcH.  "But  we  may  be  sure  this  man  car 
ries  not  the  papers  away  from  his  person. 
They  will  show  whether  or  not  our  Finnish 
friend  lied." 

The  question  and  answer  were  enough  to 
tell  Norroy  that  his  life  was  not  worth  a 
kopeck  in  Port  Arthur.  He  remembered  the 
Finn;  he  had  never  trusted  him. 

The  men  had  their  backs  to  him.  Norroy 
took  down  his  dispatch  bag  from  a  hook  and 
slung  it  over  his  shoulder,  then  drew  his  Colt 

276 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

revolver  from  Its  holster,  and,  moving  cau 
tiously  forward,  struck  Mikhailovitch  a 
heavy  blow  on  the  temple.  The  man  fell 
without  a  groan.  As  the  other  started  up, 
Norroy  swept  the  lamp  to  the  floor,  and,  de 
livering  his  antagonist  a  crushing  blow  be 
neath  the  ear,  darted  to  the  door,  and  opened 
It. 

Finding  the  key  in  the  lock,  he  turned  the 
lock  and  pocketed  the  key.  He  wasted  no 
time  in  reflection,  but  went  down  the  hall  at 
his  usual  pace,  descended  to  the  foyer  and 
out  to  Navy  Street.  Two  horses  stood  sad 
dled  without.  He  mounted  one  with  a  great 
appearance  of  unconcern,  and  touched  it 
lightly  with  the  quirt,  which  was  attached  to 
the  saddle. 

As  the  beast  darted  off,  a  man  sprang  in 
to  his  path,  and  a  spurt  of  yellow  fire,  fol 
lowed  by  the  sharp  crack  of  a  Luger  pistol, 
made  the  animal  rear  on  his  haunches. 

"Stop  him  I  In  the  czar's  name!"  came 
a  shout.  Norroy  brought  the  quirt  heavily 
over  the  horse's  ears,  and,  with  a  great 

277 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

•heave,  it  shot  out  of  the  man's  reach. 

Norroy  heard  a  great  shouting  behind  him 
as  he  sped  along,  and  twice  a  bullet  sang 
past  his  ear.  The  hoofs  of  another  horse  on 
the  frozen  ground  behind  were  plainly  audi 
ble,  and,  peering  back,  he  could  discern  a 
man  galloping  after  him. 

Norroy  knew  it  was  useless  to  make  his 
way  toward  the  Loongsang  or  any  other  ship 
in  the  harbor.  He  must  get  out  of  Port 
Arthur  on  the  land  side— make  for  Dalny 
or  Talienwan.  Once  out  of  the  city  itself, 
his  progress  would  be  much  easier. 

Pedestrians  and  horsemen  alike  drew  out 
of  the  way  of  his  thundering  horse  and  that 
of  the  man  who  followed  him,  screaming  out 
for  aid  in  capturing  the  spy.  Passing  Cos 
sacks  made  springs  for  his  bridle  rein,  but 
none  succeeded.  Many  took  shots  at  him, 
and  at  one  Norroy's  horse  gave  a  shrill  neigh 
of  pain.  Peeling  downward,  Norroy's  bare 
hand  encountered  streaming  blood  on  the 
horse's  neck.  The  animal's  pace  slackened, 
and  the  man  behind  steadily  drew  nearer. 


278 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

They  were  out  of  the  city  now,  and  were 
nearing  the  railway  station.  If  his  horse 
could  only  hold  out  until  he  reached  the  hills ! 
His  pursuer  fired,  and  a  bullet  whistled 
through  Norroy's  felt  hat. 

Norroy  knew  that  he  could  do  but  one 
thing.  His  horse  was  stumbling  and  could 
carry  him  but  a  few  paces  further.  Sud 
denly  he  swerved  him  from  his  path,  turned 
him  squarely  in  the  Russian's  way,  and 
jerked  him  to  a  standstill.  With  his  free 
hand  he  aimed  at  the  oncoming  pursuer,  and 
the  shot  caught  the  Russian  fairly  in  the 
center  of  the  forehead.  The  man  quietly 
collapsed  and  tumbled  from  his  horse. 

Norroy  dismounted  and  caught  the  freed 
horse  by  the  snaffle  rein.  He  swung  his  foot 
into  the  stirrup,  touched  his  new  steed  light 
ly  with  his  spur,  and  galloped  off  again, 
leaving  the  dead  Russian  and  the  wounded 
horse  behind. 

But  it  was  only  an  instant's  respite,  for, 
over  the  hill  he  had  left  in  his  wake,  he  could 
see  a  party  of  horsemen  bearing  behind  him. 

279 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

To  outride  these  men  would  be  impossible. 
•What  then  was  he  to  do  ? 

He  swept  down  a  second  hill,  and  the  Eus- 
sian  railway  station  loomed  large  before 
him,  not  a  half  mile  away.  Perhaps  a  few 
dozen  rods  from  the  station  was  the  Mko- 
ibadze.  .The  landlord  of  the  little  inn  was  an 
Armenian,  and  could  be  bought.  The  best 
thing  to  do  was  to  buy  him,  and  lie  concealed 
there  until  he  had  time  to  disguise  himself 
and  buy  a  passport. 

As  he  neared  the  Nikobadze,  lie  again  dis 
mounted,  turned  his  horse  facing  the  other 
way  and  gave  it  a  smart  cut  with  the  quirt. 
The  animal  sped  off  in  the  direction  of  Port 
Arthur,  and  Norroy  made  all  haste  in  the 
direction  of  the  little  inn. 

He  threw  open  the  glass-paned  door  and 
walked  into  the  Armenian's  private  room 
without  knocking. 

"Georgios,"  he  said,  rapidly,  and  in 
Greek,  as  the  little  bandy-legged  man  in  the 
greasy  black  clothes  eyed  him  tremblingly, 
"I  am  wanted  by  the  Eussian  police.  If 

280 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

you  can  hide  me  liere  for  a  couple  of  days, 
you  can  make  ten  thousand  roubles."  He 
thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  pulled 
out  a  five-hundred  rouble  note.  "That  you 
can  have  now— the  rest  when  I  leave  here 
safely.  If  you  fail  in  hiding  me,  not  a  penny 
more.  Will  you  do  it,  Georgios?  Speak 
quick!  The  police  are  coming." 

"Yes,  effendi,"  returned  the  Armenian, 
his  eyes  dilating  at  the  sight  of  the  money. 
"I  have  built  for  me  a  place  to  store  my 
goods  when  there  is  a  fight  here.  This  the 
police  cannot  discover.  Come  with  me." 

He  held  out  his  hand  for  the  note,  and 
Norroy  gave  it  to  him. 

"Mind  you,  Georgios,"  he  said,  sternly, 
"if  you  betray  me,  not  a  penny,  and,  be 
sides"— he  pulled  up  his  blouse  and  showed 
his  revolver,  which  he  tapped  significantly 
—"mind  you  that,  Georgios." 

The  little  Armenian  nodded.  "You  I 
will  not  betray,  effendi,"  he  said,  earnestly, 

He  took  Norroy  into  the  hall,  and  opened 
another  door— they  entered  a  private  dining- 

281 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

room,  and  the  Armenian  crossed  the  room 
to  where  hung  a  large  icon,  setting  forth  in 
crude  colors  the  birth  of  Christ.  The  picture 
•was  taller  than  the  average  man,  and  was 
set  firmly  against  the  wall.  The  Armenian 
pulled  against  its  right  side  and  touched  the 
head  of  one  of  the  wise  men  in  the  picture. 
Immediately  the  supposed  painting  swung 
back  like  a  door,  and  disclosed  a  little  room 
built  into  a  hollow  of  the  wall,  containing  a 
straw  pallet  and  a  rude  table. 

The  sounds  of  galloping  horses  came  to 
the  ears  of  E~orroy.  He  stepped  quickly  with 
in.  The  Armenian  swung  back  the  picture 
and  draped  the  curtains  over  it— for  icons 
are  always  hidden  from  the  light. 

Norroy  lay  down  on  the  pallet  and  the 
Armenian  went  back  to  his  room.  He  had 
hardly  reseated  himself  before  a  droshki, 
containing  a  pretty  woman,  wrapped  in  furs, 
stopped  before  the  Mkobadze,  and  the  wo 
man  alighted.  Georgios  went  into  the  hall 
to  meet  her. 

The  sound  of  the  horses'  hoofs  was  now 
quite  distinct,  and  the  police  were  in  full 
sight  of  the  inn. 

282 


CHAPTER  II. 

IN   THE   PRIVATE   DINING-ROOM    OF   THE   NIKO- 
BADZE. 

As  the  woman  mountecl  the  three  narrow, 
wooden  steps,  Georgios  threw  open  the  glass- 
paned  door,  and  stood  obsequiously  by 
while  she  entered.  Then,  closing  the  door> 
he  advanced,  rubbing  his  fat  hands. 

1  *  How  may  I  serve  madame  ? ' '  he  inquired. 

"I  find  that  the  train  to  Newchwang  is  an 
hour  late,  and  that  I  must  wait  that  time  be 
fore  taking  it, ' '  she  informed  him.  '  *  There 
fore,  during  that  hour,  I  would  have  you 
serve  me  dinner." 

"It  is  as  madame  wishes,"  said  Georgios, 
bowing  low. 

"But  I  must  be  private  and  to  myself," 
said  the  woman,  imperiously.  "I  am  the 
Countess  Helma  de  Czechowicz.  I  will  pay 
you  well." 

283 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

The  Armenian  wrinkled  his  brow.  He 
had  but  one  private  dining-room,  and  that 
contained  the  icon  behind  which  lay  the 
secret  room— and  the  effendi.  Yet  it  was 
but  for  an  hour— and  his  face  brightened. 
If  she  were  in  the  room,  the  pursuing  police 
would  have  less  cause  to  search  it. 

"If  you  will  follow  me,  madame."  He 
opened  the  door  to  the  private  dining-room. 
She  entered. 

"See  that  my  drosJiki  driver  has  a  double 
measure  of  vodka— and  some  food.  Then 
give  him  this"— she  handed  Georgios  a  two- 
rouble  note— "and  tell  him  that  he  may  re 
turn  to  the  city.  I  shall  not  need  him  long 


er." 


"Yes,  madame,"  bowed  tKe  innkeeper. 
"It  shall  be  as  madame  says."  He  lighted 
the  lamp  on  the  center  table  and  called  for 
a  Chinese  boy  to  attend  to  the  fire.  Then  he 
went  out  with  many  salaams.  The  Countess 
Helma  removed  her  fur  cloak,  and  took  off 
her  gloves  and  her  ermine  turban ;  then,  sit 
ting  down  by  the  table  and  taking  a  French 

284 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

novel  from  a  small  bag  she  carried,  she  be 
gan  to  turn  the  pages  in  search  of  the  place 
where  her  perusal  of  the  tale  had  ceased. 

A  Manchu  boy  entered  with  wood  and  coal 
in  separate  hods  and  set  about  replenishing 
the  dying-out  fire  in  the  American  stove  in 
the  center  of  the  room.  Outside,  the  snow 
was  beginning  to  fall,  and  the  horses  of  the 
oncoming  mounted  police  left  their  Hoof 
marks  behind  them  in  the  white  drift  that 
was  fast  covering  the  ground.  The  countess 
drew  her  chair  closer  to  the  stove,  giving  the 
riders,  as  they  drew  up,  but  a  cursory  glance. 
She  spoke  to  the  coolie  in  Russo-Chinese, 
and  bade  him  tell  his  master  to  have  dinner 
prepared  for  her  swiftly.  Then  she  became 
engrossed  in  her  De  Maupassant  story. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  she 
called  out  admittance.  The  Armenian  en 
tered,  rubbing  his  hands,  apologetically. 

"If  madame  pleases,"  he  said,  humbly, 
"A  party  of  police  have  ridden  up,  and  say 
that  a  spy  is  concealed  within  this  inn.  They 
demand  the  right  to  search  this  room.  A! 

285 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

captain  of  his  imperial  majesty's  army  is  in 
charge,  and  I  dare  not  refuse " 

The  countess  frowned.  "Must  I  be  dis 
turbed  by  boorish  police  ?"  she  said,  in  a  dis 
pleased  tone.  "Tell  them  that  a  lady  occu 
pies  this  room,  and  she  does  not  wish  to  be 
disturbed." 

There  was  another  knock  on  the  door,  and 
a  voice  called  out:  "Come,  come,  man,  the 
captain  does  not  wish  to  remain  outside  your 
door  forever." 

The  Armenian  opened  the  door.  "The 
lady  begs  that  you  search  the  room  swiftly, 
your  excellency,"  he  bowed.  The  officer 
swept  him  out  of  the  way,  and  came  into  the 
apartment.  The  woman  withdrew  herself 
by  the  window  and  turned  her  head. 

"Your  pardon,  madame,"  said  the  cap 
tain.  "But  I  am  looking  for  a  dog  of  an 
Englishman  who  has  stolen  valuable  papers, 
and  believe  him  to  be  somewhere  in  this 


inn." 


"I  have  just  entered,"  she  said,  trying  to 
make  her  voice  calm.     She  recognized  his 


286 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

tones,  and  did  not  wish  him  to  see  her  face. 
"Search,  but  search  quickly,  as  I  wish  to  be 
alone." 

She  spoke  softly  and  in  an  assumed  voice. 
The  officer  busied  himself  in  a  tour  of  in 
spection,  poking  beneath  divans  and  tables 
and  opening  closets.  Finally  he  pushed  back 
the  curtains  before  the  icon. 

"A  sacred  picture,  your  excellency,"  al 
most  groveled  the  Armenian.  "An  icon." 

The  officer  removed  his  cap,  involuntarily 
respectful,  for  religion  enters  largely  into 
the  Russian's  code  of  right  and  wrong.  Thei} 
he  turned,  and  caught  the  woman's  profile. 
He  leaned  forward,  his  face  a  picture  of  un 
belief.  Then  with  a  cry,  half  savage  in  its 
intensity,  he  strode  to  her  side. 

"Helma!"  he  exclaimed.  He  turned  to 
the  Armenian.  "Leave  the  room."  The 
landlord  hesitated.  "Leave  the  room,  filth!" 
added  the  officer,  politely.  Fearing  compli 
cations  unforeseen,  the  Armenian  quitted 
-the  room,  shaking  as  though  with  the  ague. 

"So  I  have  found  you,"  exclaimed  the  of- 

287 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

ficer,  unpleasantly.  "What  are  you  doing 
here?" 

"What  right  have  you  to  question  me?" 
she  returned,  facing  him.  "Suppose  you  fol 
low  the  landlord.  This  is  my  private  room, 
and  I  do  not  desire  your  presence  in  it." 

"I  want  an  answer,"  he  returned,  fierce 
ly.  "An  answer  that  explains  your  presence 
in  this  hole,  unchaperoned,  absolutely  alone. 
Your  father  left  you  in  my  charge  when  he 
went  to  Vladivostok " 

"My  stepfather,"  she  corrected.  "And  I 
do  not  acknowledge  his  right  to  leave  me  in 
your  charge.  You  have  no  jurisdiction  over 
me,  Captain  Lenoff." 

His  quick  eye  caught  a  slip  of  yellow 
paper  within  the  pages  of  the  novel  she  had 
been  reading.  He  reached  down  and  jerked 
it  forth.  An  ugly  look  crossed  his  face  when 
it  was  plain  to  him. 

"A  railway  pass  to  Newchwang,"  he  said, 
furiously.  "What " 

She  crossed  to  the  door  and  threw  it  open. 
"I  must  ask  you  to  go,  Captain  Lenoff,"  she 

288 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

said,  calmly. 

"And  I  must  answer  you— thus."  He 
pushed  her  roughly  away,  closed  the  door, 
locked  it  and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket. 
"Now,  perhaps,  the  Countess  Helma  will  be 
so  kind  as  to  answer  my  question." 

"The  Countess  Helma  does  not  recognize 
your  right  to  ask  it,"  returned  the  girl,  with 
spirit.  She  stood  erect,  facing  him,  her 
great  black  eyes  alight  with  indignation,  and 
a  crimson  flush  on  her  pale  face. 

The  captain  had  evidently  cooled  a  trifle 
at  her  determined  attitude.  He  sat  down  on 
a  chair  near  by  and  took  a  case  from  his 
pocket,  extracting  therefrom  a  tiny  ciga 
rette,  half  paper  tube.  This  he  lighted  over 
the  lamp,  watching  the  girl,  who  continued 
to  eye  him  steadily. 

"So  you  think  I  have  no  right  to  ask  the 
question?"  he  queried,  mockingly.  "Very 
well,  my  countess !  If  you  do  not  recognize 
my  legal  right,  perhaps  you  will  believe  me 
when  I  refer  you  to  the  old  saw  which  de 
nominates  might  as  being  right.  It  seems  to 

289 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

me  that  I  have  the  might. " 

"  You  have  taken  advantage  of  my  woman 
ly  weakness,  that  is  all  I  can  see,  Captain 
Lenoff,"  she  retorted,  without  a  trace  of 
fear  in  her  tones.  "But  I  do  not  see  that  it 
alters  the  situation  at  all." 

Captain  Lenoff  leaned  forward.  "I  came 
here  to  catch  a  spy  to-night,  but  it  seems  that 
I  shall  catch  something  better,"  he  said. 
"If  you  will  not  answer  my  question,  I  will 
tell  you  what  your  reply  should  have  been : 
You  are  going  to  Newchwang,  and  from 
there  to  Peking— to  that  treacherous  Polish 
rascal  whom  we  drove  out  of  Port  Arthur." 

She  arose.  "That  we  drove  out  of  Port 
Arthur,  Captain  Lenoff?  I  think  you  are 
mistaken.  Was  it  not  Count  Stanislas  who 
spared  your  life  in  a  duel  after  you  had  vile 
ly  slandered  him?" 

Lenoff 's  face  grew  very  red.  "At  any 
rate,  you  shall  not  go,"  he  said,  determined 
ly. 

"There  is  no  law  to  prevent   me.    You 

dare  not  use  force,"  she  replied. 

290 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Dare  not?"  He  laughed.  "Well,  I 
haven't  time  to  argue  the  question,  for  I 
have  a  spy  to  catch  to-night;  but  I'll  make 
sure  you  do  not  go  to  Newchwang."  He 
folded  the  railway  pass  carefully  and  placed 
it  in  his  pocket.  She  suddenly  became  aware 
what  would  be  his  next  action,  and  made  a 
wild  grasp  for  her  hand  bag,  which  lay  on 
the  table.  He  reached  for  it  at  the  same 
time,  and  a  tug  ensued.  She  held  on  with 
the  grip  of  desperation. 

'  *  Oh !  you  coward ! ' '  she  cried.  '  *  You  cow 
ard!  Let  loose  of  that.  It  is  mine.  You 

have  no  right "  The  tears  welled  up  in 

her  eyes. 

"As  I  thought,"  smiled  the  captain,  grim 
ly,  as  he  gradually  pulled  it  from  her. 
"Like  all  women,  you  keep  your  money  in 
your  bag.  Without  money  or  pass,  I  rather 
think  you  won't  go  to  Newchwang." 

She  clutched  the  bag  again,  holding  it  over 
his  hand.  Her  nails  tore  his  wrist. 

"Here!  enough  of  that!"  he  said,  sourly, 
and  with  a  wrench  he  pulled  the  bag  from 

291 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AiGENT 

her  grasp  and  retreated  to  the  other  end  of 
the  room.  He  opened  it  and  took  out  a  pack 
et  of  rouble  notes  and  a  letter  of  credit.  Still 
smiling,  he  thrust  them  into  his  pocket  and 
tossed  the  bag  on  the  table. 

"I'm  sure  you  will  not  go  to  Newehwang 
now,"  he  said.  "And  now  I  must  be  off  to 
hunt  the  spy.  I  will  put  you  in  charge  of 
two  of  my  men." 

She  faced  him,  tearful  and  consumed  with 
rage.  "Oh!  you  coward— you  mean,  despic 
able  cad!"  she  breathed.  She  made  a  quick 
dash  across  the  room  and  plucked  the  money 
from  his  pocket,  holding  it  firmly  in  both 
hands.  His  face  darkened,  and  he  seized 
her  wrists. 

"Give  it  up,  Helma,"  he  said,  coldly. 
"Give  it  up.  I  do  not  want  to  hurt  you. 
; Why  do  you  resist  ?  You  are  powerless,  lit 
tle  sister." 

"Help!  Help!"  she  screamed,  at  the  top 
of  her  lungs.  "Help!  Help!" 

"There  is  no  one  to  help  you,"  the  man 
informed  her,  coolly. 

292 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

The  curtains  before  the  icon  parted,  and 
Norroy  stood  in  the  shadow  of  the  room. 
They  had  their  backs  to  him,  and  he  moved 
toward  the  door  and  stood  facing  the  com 
batants. 

" Pardon  me?"  he  inquired,  politely,  one 
hand  held  behind  his  back.  They  did  not 
seem  to  hear  or  see  him.  " Pardon  me,"  he 
repeated,  in  a  louder  tone,  and  speaking  in 
French,  "but  do  I  intrude?" 

The  officer  released  the  girl  and  faced  him, 
astonishment  and  anger  in  his  eyes.  "Yes 
—you  intrude,"  he  said,  loudly.  "You  in 
trude  most  damnably."  As  his  eyes  took 
in  Norroy  from  head  to  foot,  he  started  back 
startled  and  dismayed. 

"It  is— it  is "  He  muttered.  "It  is 

—the  Englishman— the  spy— the  spy " 

His  hand  sought  his  pistol  strapped  to 
his  belt,  but  the  hand  behind  Norroy  came 
immediately  into  full  view,  and  Captain 
Lenoff  found  himself  looking  into  the  steel 
barrel  of  a  Colt  forty-five,  held  steadily  and 
unwaveringly  by  the  hand  of  Mr.  Yorke 

293 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Norroy. 

"Just  take  that  toy  out  of  your  belt,  cap 
tain,"  he  said,  suavely,  "and  put  it  on  the 
table.  Then  put  your  sword  beside  it.  If 
you  make  any  noise,  man  ami,  I  shall  be  un 
der  the  painful  necessity  of  getting  rid  of 
one  of  these  cartridges— and  I  need  them  all 
badly.  So  hurry,  man  cher  capitan." 

Dazed  and  bewildered,  Captain  Lenoff 
obeyed  instructions. 


294 


CHAPTER  HI. 

CAPTAIN  YORKE  NORROY,  H.  I.  R.  M.  S. 

Norroy  studied  the  Russian  with  a  glint 
of  humor  in  his  eye,  for  it  was  a  prearranged 
plan  with  him  that  this  man  should  aid  him 
in  his  escaping  from  the  predicament  in 
which  the  Finn  had  landed  him.  In  the 
Russian's  look  there  was  much  malevolence, 
and  the  secret  agent  noted  that  his  glance 
wandered  toward  his  belt. 

" Really,  I  am  becoming  forgetful,"  con 
tinued  Norroy.  "I  had  omitted  to  mention 
that  dirk,  Captain  Lenoff .  Just  lay  that  on 
the  table,  too,  will  you?" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  growled  Lenoff. 

"I  mean  that  little  ornament  you  wear  in 
your  belt.  Perhaps  your  possession  of  it 
slipped  your  memory.  But  I  see  the  hilt 
showing."  He  advanced  a  few  steps  toward 
the  officer,  and  indicated  the  weapon  with 

295 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

a  twirl  of  his  revolver.  Lenoff  scowled  and 
folded  his  arms. 

"Come,  come!"  said  Norroy,  impatiently. 
"Don't  let  us  dally.  The  dirk,  man!"  The 
cold  light  in  the  secret  agent's  indefinitely 
colored  eyes  was  disquieting  to  the  Eussian 
in  view  of  the  fact  that  the  revolver  was 
now  within  a  few  inches  of  Ms  nose.  He 
put  his  hand  to  Ms  belt,  withdrew  the  tiny 
weapon,  and,  after  fingering  it  uncertainly, 
threw  it  on  the  table  also.  Norroy  advanced 
and  picked  up  the  sword,  pistol  and  dirk. 
The  first  two  he  dropped  in  a  corner,  but  the 
dirk  he  retained. 

"This  is  much  more  satisfactory,"  he 
said.  "  If  I  fired  the  revolver  it  might  alarm 
your  men.  This  will  do  its  work  silently!" 
Norroy  thrust  the  Colt  into  its  holster  and 
held  the  dagger  in  his  hand. 

"From  what  I  gather  from  madame's  con 
versation  and  yours,"  he  continued,  bowing 
to  the  girl,  who  stood  viewing  Mm  with  un 
disguised  amazement  and  a  little  alarm, 
"you  seek  to  prevent  her  from  carrying  out 

296 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

her  wishes  without  having  any  right  so  to  do. 
Madame  wishes  to  go  to  Newchwang.  There 
fore  she  should  be  allowed  to  go.  In  order 
that  there  will  be  no  mistake,  I  am  going 
to  escort  her  there— with  your  permission, 
madame." 

"Monsieur  is  very  kind,"  murmured  the 
girl,  who  had  not  yet  fathomed  the  exact 
status  of  the  case. 

"So!"  said  Lenoff,  sarcastically.  "And 
may  I  ask  monsieur  the  spy  how  he  intends 
to  leave  Port  Arthur  without  a  passport?" 

"Certainly  you  may,"  returned  Norroy, 
smiling.  "Because  in  order  to  see  madame 
to  the  end  of  her  journey,  I  am  going  to  ask 
you  to  help  me,  mon  cher  capitan.  In  view 
of  the  fact  that  you  have  been  very  rude 
to  madame,  I  think  you  will  feel  it  your  duty 
to  accede  to  any  little  matters  of  convenience 
I  may  suggest."  He  fondled  the  dirk  specu- 
latively,  and  looked  steadily  at  the  Russian, 

"Tour  description  is  in  the  hands  of  both 
police  and  soldiers,"  growled  Lenoff.  "And 
you'll  not  get  away,  mark  that,  M.  "Warren- 

297 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  ACfENT 

dell.  You'll  be  taken  back  to  Port  Arthur 
and  stood  up  against  one  of  the  walls  of  the 
Gold  Hill  Fort  with  a  file  of  soldiers  facing 
you.  Don't  flatter  yourself  your  country 
can  aid  you.  You  are  a  spy,  and  interna 
tional  law  doesn't  recognize  spies  as  having 
any  nationality/' 

"Yes?"  queried  Norroy.  "Well,  per 
haps  you  are  wrong,  monsieur  le  capitan. 
Now  for  the  little  favors  I  am  going  to  ask 
of  you.  First  return  madame's  railway  pass 
and  her  letter  of  credit." 

The  Eussian  gave  him  a  defiant  look. 

"I  must  warn  you  against  delays— they 
are  dangerous,"  pursued  the  secret  agent, 
his  eyes  glittering.  "Quick  now!" 

The  Eussian  took  the  desired  articles 
from  his  pocket  and  held  them  out  to  Nor 
roy.  The  secret  agent  stretched  forth  his 
hand.  The  Eussian  gripped  it  tightly,  and 
his  other  hand  shot  forth  and  seized  the 
wrist  of  the  one  holding  the  dagger.  With 
a  sudden  motion  of  his  body  Norroy  twisted 
back  both  his  opponent's  hands ;  then,  wheel- 

298 


ii 
il 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

ing  quickly,  caught  Mm  about  the  neck  in 
such  a  way  as  to  render  him  powerless. 

Madame,"  he  said,  dispassionately, 
your  property  is  on  the  floor.  I  must  ask 
you  to  pick  it  up."  As  the  Countess  Helma 
moved  forward,  he  spoke  in  a  very  low  tone 
to  the  man  in  his  embrace.  "If  you  attempt 
that  again,  Captain  Lenoff,  you  will  have 
your  dirk  restored  to  you  in  a  way  you  won't 
like.  Let  me  advise  you  again  to  do  exact 
ly  as  I  tell  you.  Haven't  you  enough  wits 
to  see  that  I  have  the  upper  hand?"  He 
released  the  glowering  officer  and  stepped 
back. 

"Now,  madame,"  lie  continued,  "kindly 
step  into  that  closet  at  the  end  of  the  room 
and  close  the  door.  I  am  going  to  ask  Cap 
tain  Lenoff  to  loan  me  his  uniform,  and— 
you  understand?" 

The  girl  nodded,  and  entered  the  little 
closet,  shutting  the  door  after  her. 

"Now,  monsieur  le  capitan"  went  on  Nor- 
roy,  briskly.  "I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  hur 
ry,  as  the  stuffy  closet  is  hardly  a  fit  place 

299 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

for  madame  to  remain  in  for  any  length  of 
time." 

" Hurry— what?"  inquired  Lenoff,  sullen 
ly. 

"  Hurry  and  disrobe.  Take  off  your  uni 
form  and  boots— and  be  quick  about  it,  too." 

"I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  returned 
Lenoff,  defiantly. 

" Captain  Lenoff,"  said  Norroy,  icily, 
"you  are  dealing  with  a  man  whose  life  is 
in  some  peril,  and  who  will  not  hesitate  to 
take  yours  in  order  to  save  his  own.  I  must 
have  that  uniform.  That  will  be  my  pass 
port  to  Newchwang  about  which  you  in 
quired  a  moment  ago.  I  should  prefer  that 
you  give  it  to  me  yourself  rather  than  that 
I  strip  it  from  you  when  you  are  non  est." 

The  way  in  which  Norroy  spoke,  and  the 
almost  savage  gleam  of  his  eye,  convinced 
Lenoff  that  refusal  would  be  suicidal.  He 
arose  and  threw  off  his  long,  gray  coat,  took 
off  his  riding  boots  and  breeches,  removed 
his  blouse  and  waistcoat,  and  tossed  his  cap 
and  sword  belt  on  the  top  of  the  pile.  Then, 

300 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

standing  erect  in  his  undergarments,  lie 
favored  Norroy  with  an  evil  look.  Norroy 
advanced,  and,  keeping  an  eye  on  Lenoff, 
pushed  the  clothes  into  another  closet  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room.  Then  he  took  off  his 
cartridge  belt  and  unslung  the  dispatch  bag 
he  carried  over  his  shoulder.  From  the  lin 
ing  of  his  coat  he  extracted  papers  and 
money  which  he  placed  in  the  dispatch  bag, 
from  the  trousers  he  took  out  a  few  odds 
and  ends,  from  the  waistcoat  a  watch  and 
fob  and  other  trinkets.  Then  he  laid'  his 
revolver  and  the  Russian's  dirk  on  a  little 
tabouret. 

"Now,  Captain  Lenoff,"  he  said,  quietly, 
"I  am  going  to  disrobe.  I  am  just  about 
three  feet  from  you,  and  can  seize  you  be 
fore  you  reach  the  door.  As  you  know,  I 
am  stronger  than  you,  and,  besides,  I  hold 
the  weapons.  So  take  my  advice,  and  re 
main  perfectly  quiet." 

Quickly  Norroy  threw  his  khaki-serge 
blouse  to  the  floor,  and  drew  off  his  tan  boots. 
In  exactly  the  same  fashion  as  the  Bussian, 

301 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

he  made  a  little  pile  of  his  clothing  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor,  Lenoff  eying  him  in  help 
less  rage.  Norroy  was  also  in  his  under 
clothes  now.  He  picked  up  the  long  coat 
which  the  Russian  had  discarded  and 
slipped  it  on.  It  reached  nearly  to  his 
ankles. 

"It  is  fortunate  that  you  and  I  are  about 
the  same  size,  captain,"  he  said,  cheerily. 
"This  coat  fits  me  very  well.  I  haven't  time 
to  try  the  others  yet.  Now,  oblige  me  by  ar 
raying  yourself  in  my  garments— please 
don't  argue  the  question." 

Lenoff  was  reduced  to  a  state  of  servile 
obedience.  He  feared  this  mad  devil  of  an 
Englishman,  whose  strength  of  arm  was  so 
great,  and  whose  manner  showed  that  he 
would  have  little  hesitation  in  dirking  him 
if  he  refused  to  obey  orders. 

In  a  few  moments  he  was  dressed  in  Nor- 
roy's  clothes,  and  Norroy  discarded  the 
long  coat  and  pulled  on  the  sky-blue  riding 
breeches  and  heelless  black  boots,  after 
which  went  waistcoat  and  undress  blouse. 

302 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

He  strapped  his  cartridge  belt  and  holster 
around  his  waist,  but  left  the  dirk  on  the 
table.  Then  he  fastened  the  military  collar 
of  the  blouse  and  eyed  himself  with  some 
satisfaction  in  the  pier  glass. 

"In  truth,  captain,"  he  said,  smiling,  "I 
believe  I  make  a  far  better  Russian  than 
you.  Madame,  you  may  re-enter." 

At  the  sight  of  the  transformed  men,  the 
Countess  Helma  broke  into  rippling  laugh 
ter.  Lenoffi  scowled. 

6 'Now,  madame,"  Norroy  addressed  her, 
"I  see  some  picture  cord  there  which  sup 
ports  those  two  paintings  at  the  end  of  the 
room.  From  previous  experience,  I  have 
found  that  picture  cord  makes  an  excellent 
substitute  for  rope.  Will  you  kindly  take 
the  pictures  down  and  untie  the  cord?" 

The  girl  looked  at  him  questioningly,  and 
he  nodded  toward  Lenoff:.  She  smiled  again, 
and  untied  the  cord. 

"Now  I  must  ask  you  to  put  your  hands 
behind  your  back,  Captain  Lenoff,"  he  said, 
"This  lady  will  then  tie  them  together." 

303 


NORRQY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Oh!  monsieur, "  protested  the  Countess 
Helma. 

"You  wish  to  reach  Newchwang,  do  you 
not?"  inquired  Norroy. 

The  girl  said  no  more,  but  moved  toward 
Lenoff ,  who  made  a  sudden  dash  for  Norroy. 
The  outstretched  dirk  met  him,  and  Norroy 
looked  at  him  angrily. 

"You  have  only  to  do  that  once  more, 
Captain  Lenoff,"  he  said,  with  much  stern 
ness  of  manner,  "and  you  will  have  made 
your  last  move  in  any  direction.  Put  your 
hands  behind  your  back.  Tie  him  securely, 
Countess  Helma." 

The  task  was  easily  performed,  and  Nor 
roy  relieved  her  of  the  remainder  of  the  pic 
ture  cord,  and,  kneeling  before  the  Russian, 
he  tied  his  feet  together.  A  sudden  realiza 
tion  of  his  position  came  to  Lenoff.  He 
knew  what  it  would  mean  now  if  he  were 
discovered  in  this  predicament,  his  uniform 
and  sword  gone,  and  his  quarry  escaped. 

"Gregorovitch!"  he  shouted  loudly.  "A 
spy!  Help!  Help!" 

304 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

For  a  moment  it  looked  as  though  Norroy 
were  about  to  sheathe  the  dirk  in  a  tender 
portion  of  his  anatomy.  But  the  secret 
agent  paused  in  the  very  action  and  laughed. 

" Exactly, "he said, grimly.  "Exactly.  A 
spy!" 

He  placed  his  hand  to  his  chin,  and 
whisked  off  the  false  Vandyke  beard  which 
he  wore,  following  it  with  the  curling  mus 
tache,  and  stood  clean  shaven,  as  of  yore. 
To  tell  the  truth,  Norroy  could  not  have 
raised  a  beard. 

He  advanced  on  the  Russian,  still  smiling, 
and  fastened  the  beard  and  mustache  on  his 
face.  Then,  picking  up  his  own  felt  hat, 
he  slouched  it  over  LenofPs  eyes.  A  hand 
kerchief  and  a  piece  of  stick  were  quickly 
converted  into  a  gag,  which  was  thrust  into 
Lenoff's  mouth,  and  twisted  tightly,  making 
speech  impossible. 

A  knock  came  on  the  door  without,  and 
many  voices  cried  out  in  Eussian:  "Open 
the  door— open  the  door,  captain!" 

The  girl  was  trembling  in  every  limb,  but 

305 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Norroy's  face  showed  nothing  but  amuse 
ment.  He  reached  into  his  dispatch  bag  and 
extracted  a  wig,  cut  Russian  style,  and  of 
a  very  black  shade.  This  he  put  over  his 
own  hair.  Then  he  picked  up  Lenoff 's  cap 
and  pulled  it  down  so  as  to  shade  his  face ; 
drew  on  the  long  coat  and  buckled  the  sword 
belt  over  it.  The  knocking  on  the  door  had 
become  tempestuous  and  the  shouting  out 
side  continued.  Norroy  reached  into  the 
corner,  thrust  the  Russian's  sword  into  the 
scabbard  by  his  side,  and  placed  the  pistol  in 
its  holster.  Then  he  stepped  over  to  tHe 
lamp  and  turned  the  light  low. 

"Put  on  your  hat  and  cloak,  madame," 
he  told  the  girl.  In  the  distance  the  shrill 
whistle  of  a  train  was  heard. 

Norroy  reached  into  the  pocket  of  the  long 
coat,  and  took  out  the  door-key,  which  the 
Russian  had  placed  there.  He  unlocked  the 
door,  and  a  dozen  imperial  police  stumbled 
in.  At  the  sight  of  the  officer  they  saluted. 

"We  heard  you  call,  captain,"  said  a 
sergeant  of  police  breathlessly.  "You  said 

306 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

a  spy!" 

"Precisely,"  returned  Norroy,  in  perfect 
Russian,  mimicking  the  deep  tones  of  LenofE 
to  a  nicety.  "There  he  sits.  He  was  con 
cealed  here.  That  is  the  man  we  are  in 
search  of,  but  he  has  no  papers  on  him.  He 
has  confessed  that  a  confederate  has  taken 
the  papers  to  Newchwang.  Is  that  not  the 
whistle  of  the  wagon-lit  without?" 

"Yes,  captain,"  returned  the  sergeant. 
"The  train  leaves  for  Newchwang  in  less 
than  five  minutes." 

"Then  I  will  leave  this  man  in  your 
charge,  sergeant.  But  one  caution;  do  not 
ungag  him.  I  have  my  reasons  for  order 
ing  this.  Take  him  to  the  Gold  Hill  Fort 
and  do  not  ungag  him  until  to-morrow  morn 
ing.  Do  not  ask  me  why.  It  is  enough  that 
I  give  the  order." 

The  sergeant  saluted  again.  "It  shall  be 
as  you  say,  captain,"  he  returned.  "In 
truth,  this  is  the  very  man.  The  description 
Mikhailovitch  gave  was  correct.  Might  I 
ask,  captain,  how  you  captured  him?" 

307 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Through  this  lady,  who  is  a  secret  agent 
of  Ms  excellency,  M.  Alexieff,"  replied  Ker 
rey,  bowing  to  the  girl.  "But  I  have  no  time 
to  waste.  I  must  go  to  Newchwang.  You  will 
not  forget  my  orders,  sergeant.  He  must 
not  be  ungagged  until  to-morrow  morning. 
If  this  order  is  not  obeyed,  serious  mishaps 
may  occur,  and  I  shall  hold  you  responsible 
—you  understand?" 

"Yes,  captain,"  said  the  sergeant.  "I 
understand,  and  will  obey.  Shall  I  inform 
the  general  that  you  have  gone  to  New 
chwang?" 

"Yes.  I  shall  return  by  the  morning  train, 
and  I  shall  have  the  papers.  You  may  tell 
him  that,  also.  Come,  madame,  or  we  shall 
not  catch  the  train."  He  bowed  low  to  the 
bound  Russian.  "Adieu,  monsieur  the  spy," 
he  said,  pleasantly. 

The  police  made  a  way  for  him  to  pass 
out,  and  the  two  left  the  room.  In  the  hall 
he  encountered  Georgios. 

"I  will  send  you  a  check  from  Peking," 
He  breathed  in  his  ear.  The  astonished  Ar- 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

menian,  not  understanding,  looked  after  the 
pair  in  dumb  amazement. 

They  reached  the  train  just  in  time  to 
board  it,  and  went  into  a  first-class  com 
partment.  Norroy's  uniform  was  sufficient 
passport  for  both  himself  and  the  girl. 

As  he  seated  himself  opposite  her,  his 
pent-up  feelings  of  mirth  broke  loose,  and 
he  burst  into  the  heartiest  fit  of  laughter 
that  had  ever  overcome  him. 


309 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  CONSCIENCE  OF  YORKE  NORROY. 

The  Port  Arthur  train  reached  New- 
chwang  at  four  o'clock  the  next  morning, 
and,  being  unhampered  with  luggage,  Nor- 
roy  and  the  girl  hastened  from  the  station 
and  entered  a  mandarin  cart  which  took 
them  to  the  banks  of  the  Liaho  Eiver.  It 
was  bitterly  cold  and  the  blackness  of  the 
night  was  still  on  the  land.  The  Liaho 
stretched  before  them,  frozen,  without  a  pisa 
in  sight,  but  their  cart  driver  finally  routed 
up  two  sleeping  coolies,  and  the  little  sleds 
were  dragged  out  of  huts  and  launched  on 
the  glassy  surface.  The  passengers  sat  in 
the  middle,  while  the  coolies  stood  behind 
with  long,  steel-pointed  poles,  which  they 
dug  into  the  ice  at  intervals  and  sent  the 
light  craft  skimming  over  the  surface. 

Half  an  hour  in  the  face  of  the  bleak  wind, 

310 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

and  they  were  landed  on  the  frozen  bank  of 
the  Yinkow  side.  It  was  nearing  five  o  'clock 
now,  and  the  train  for  Shan-hai-kuan  left 
at  that  hour.  They  had  time  to  spare,  for 
the  railroad  station  was  very  near.  Nor- 
roy  purchased  two  tickets  of  an  inscrutable- 
looking  Tartar,  with  long,  drooping  mus- 
tachios,  and  they  went  into  their  compart 
ment. 

Once  out  of  Yinkow,  there  was  no  possibil 
ity  of  arrest,  and  when  the  last  warning  toot 
of  the  locomotive's  whistle  was  heard,  and 
the  cars  began  to  move,  Norroy  breathed  a 
long  sigh  of  relief. 

The  girl  had  been  talking  for  some  time, 
and  Norroy  had  been  listening  intently. 

"It  is  then  truth,  monsieur,  that  you  carry 
the  plans  of  Port  Arthur  on  your  person?" 
she  said. 

"I  have  not  told  you  so,  madame,"  he 
replied. 

"  Assuming  a  purely  hypothetical  case, 
then,"  went  on  the  girl,  "you  have  the 

311 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

plans ;  you  intend  to  surrender  them  to  Ja 
pan.  I  am  a  Eussian,  monsieur,  and  I  love 
my  country.  Lenoff  is  not  a  fair  example 
of  my  countrymen,  as  you  know,  you  who 
can  speak  our  language  so  fluently.  My 
stepfather  has  been  unkind  to  me,  and  I  am 
leaving  him,  and  with  him,  Eussia.  Perhaps 
I  shall  never  return.  But  I  love  my  country, 
monsieur,  I  love  my  country  as  well  as  you 
love  yours,  and  if  you  are  English,  you  must 
love  yours  greatly. 

"  Suppose  there  should  be  war  ?  If  Japan 
were  in  possession  of  these  papers  which  we 
suppose  you  carry,  Port  Arthur  would  easily 
fall  before  her.  That  would  mean  the  end 
of  Eussia  in  the  East.  Perhaps  you  hate 
Eussia  as  do  most  English.  But  is  not 
Eussian  domination  better  than  Japanese? 
Have  you  reflected  what  it  would  mean 
should  Japan  rule  Asia  ?  Perhaps  my  own 
country  is  grasping,  but  is  not  Japan  more 
so?  Perhaps  my  own  country  does  not  al 
ways  keep  her  promises,  but  when  did  Japan 
ever  keep  a  promise?" 

312 


NORROiY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Norroy  knew  that  what  this  girl  said  was 
truth.  Russians  he  disliked,  but  not  so  much 
as  he  did  Japanese. 

"You  know,  you  must  know,  since  you  are 
working  for  Japan,  that  she  has  no  grati 
tude,  no  moral  obligation.  Remember  the 
officers  she  decoyed  from  European  armies 
and  navies  to  officer  her  own  people.  She 
promised  them  retirement  at  double  the 
salary  their  own  government  would  have 
paid  them.  They  went,  they  served  Japan 
faithfully  for  years,  they  trained  her  sol 
diers  and  sailors.  Then,  when  Japan  had 
learned  all  they  could  teach  her,  she  cut 
them  adrift  in  their  old  age  without  a  penny 
or  a  prospect.  You  know  that  is  true." 

"Yes,"  he  agreed,  "that  is  true." 

"You,  monsieur,  you  who  are  so  brave  and 
strong,  should  not  stoop  to  such  work  for 
such  a  nation.  Were  it  your  own  country 
that  looked  for  war  with  mine,  I  would  not 
urge  you.  But  it  is  not  for  your  country 
that  you  are  doing  this.  Russia  is  cruel,  cor 
rupt,  sometimes  barbarous.  But  what  of 

313 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Japan?" 

Norroy  lighted  a  cigarette  and  nodded  un- 
derstandingly. 

"It  is  much  to  ask  of  you,  monsieur.  And 
you  have  been  so  kind  to  me  that  I  do  not 
wish  to  appear  ungrateful.  You  have  risked 
your  life  for  these  papers.  No  doubt  they 
are  worth  much  to  you.  You  have  nothing 
to  gain  by  doing  what  I  wish  unless  you 
value  your  own  self -appreciation.  But  per 
haps  you  do  not  look  at  matters  in  the  same 
light  as  I." 

"  Suppose  you  state  explicitly  what  you 
wish  me  to  do,  countess,"  said  Norroy, 
brushing  the  ashes  from  his  cigarette. 

"Do  not,  oh!  do  not  take  those  papers  to 
Japan.  Ah !  I  have  offended  you,  monsieur. 
I  know  it  is  much  to  ask,  and  I  know  that 
it  appears  presumptuous  that  I  should 
judge  you.  But,  monsieur,  what  you  are  do 
ing  is  wrong— all  wrong." 

The  secret  agent  looked  out  of  the  window 
of  the  car  at  the  expanse  of  brown  country 
covered  with  sparse  vegetation,  and  through 

314 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

which  the  tiny  canals  wended  their  way  like 
threads  of  silver.  He  said  nothing,  but  he 
was  thinking,  nevertheless,  thinking  deeply. 
He  had  gone  through  much  to  win  thesq 
papers.  There  was  a  reward  at  the  end  of 
his  journey  which  would  relieve  him  of 
financial  embarrassment,  and  make  him  able 
to  return  to  his  own  country,  unfettered  and 
under  no  obligations.  On  the  other  hand- 
Around  a  curve  of  the  road  the  Great 
Wall  of  China  appeared,  faint  and  shadowy. 
Within  a  few  moments  they  would  be  out  of 
Manchuria,  and  he  would  be  free  from  any 
possible  chance  of  trouble  from  Russia. 
The  journey  was  nearly  at  an  end,  the  re 
sults  accomplished.  It  had  taken  time, 
trouble  and  much  that  was  disagreeable  to 
do  the  thing  that  she  now  asked  him  to  un 
do. 

"It  is  right,"  she  murmured.  "It  is  right. 
I  only  ask  you  to  do  what  your  own  con 
science  must  tell  you  is  the  only  course." 

He  did  not  answer  her.  The  train  swept 
on  until  it  looked  as  though  the  Great  Wall 

315 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

was  about  to  topple  over  upon  them ;  a  sec 
ond  later  and  the  train  swept  through  the 
break  and  they  were  speeding  over  Cheh-li 
province,  with  Manchuria  and  Russian 
domination  behind.  Shan-hai-kuan,  with 
its  barracks  and  hotel,  was  visible  to  the  eye. 
Here,  under  the  protection  of  American  and 
Japanese  arms,  he  was  safe. 

But  he  had  made  up  his  mind.  His  hand 
went  into  his  breast,  and  a  bulky  package, 
bound  with  red  tape,  was  extracted. 

"  These  are  the  plans,  madame,"  he  said, 
simply.  A  little  fire  burned  brightly  in  a 
stove  in  the  center  of  the  compartment.  Nor- 
roy  opened  the  door,  and  fingered  the 
papers  uncertainly.  Then,  with  a  quick 
movement,  he  cast  them  on  the  flames,  and 
watched'  the  hungry  fire  lap  around  their 
edges  until  a  yellow  spurt  showed  they  were 
ignited. 

"Ah!  monsieur!  monsieur!"  she  cried. 
The  next  moment  she  had  thrown  her  arms 
about  his  neck  and  kissed  him  on  the  lips. 

Gently  he  untwined  her  arms,  and  looked 

316 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

at  her  steadily. 

"You  are  going  to  meet  Count  Stanislas 
in  Peking,"  he  said,  slowly.  "Ydu  are  his 
fiancee,  are  you  not,  countess?" 

"I  was  foolish— I  did  not  know,"  she 
whispered.  * '  You ' ' 

The  train  came  to  a  sudden  stop,  and, 
looking  out  of  the  window,  the  files  of  sol 
diers  of  many  nations  were  seen  drawn  up  to 
salute. 

"Come,"  said  Norroy.  "Here  is  Shan- 
hai-kuan  and  the  hotel.  And  remember  that 
Count  Stanislas  loves  and  trusts  you,  even 
as  my  fiancee  trusts  me." 

She  uttered  a  faint  cry  as  he  declared  the 
tie  that  bound  him,  but  stifled  her  emotion 
and  picked  up  her  hand-bag.  Norroy,  smil 
ing  grimly,  as  he  wondered  what  girl  in  the 
United  States  he  could  claim  with  any  such 
title,  opened  the  door  for  the  Russian  count 
ess,  and  they  left  the  train. 

When  he  was  alone  in  his  room  he  eyed 
his  likeness  in  the  mirror. 

"Yorke   Norroy,"  he   said,   with   much 

317 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

earnestness,  "you  are  a  fool." 

But,  somehow,  the  restful  feeling  that 
comes  when  one  has  done  the  right  at  all 
costs  did  not  bear  out  his  reiterated  state 
ment  to  the  inoffensive  likeness. 


318 


The  Honor  of  the  Ambassador 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  SECRETARY  OF  LEGATION. 

In  the  house  of  many  secrets  and  unas 
suming  appearance,  Yorke  Norroy  had  been 
waiting  for  some  half  an  hour,  smoking  his 
inevitable  cigarettes  and  gazing  out  of  the 
bay  windows  on  the  shrubbery  and  well-kept 
yew  hedges.  It  was  very  seldom  that  he  was 
called  upon  to  perform  another  mission  im 
mediately  after  returning  from  one  which 
had  kept  him  abroad  for  nearly  six  months. 
Yet  the  secretary's  note  was  final,  and  so 
Norroy  had  come. 

He  was  running  over  in  his  mind  his  list 
of  invitations,  and  wondering  how  it  would 
be  possible  to  cancel  them  all  without  suspi- 

319 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  "AGENT 

cion,  when  the  secretary  entered,  placid  and 
imperturbable  as  ever.  The  two  men  shook 
hands,  and  the  secretary  offered  Norroy  a 
cigar,  which  the  secret  agent  declined.  The 
chief  of  the  state  department  lighted  one 
himself,  and  followed  Norroy 's  gaze  to  the 
shrubbery.  Finally  he  spoke. 

"Can  you  procure  a  bid  to  the  Cochranes' 
house  party?"  he  inquired,  without  intro 
duction.  But  Norroy  was  hardened  to  start 
ling  questions  of  this  sort  which  seemed  en 
tirely  irrelevant  to  his  duties  as  secret  agent, 

"Why,  yes,"  he  returned,  slowly.  "I  think 
I  have  a  'bid'  now.  I'm  not  quite  sure,  but 
I  fancy  I  have.  I  should  refuse  it  in  the 
usual  course  of  things.  House  parties  are 
always  stupid  affairs,  and  this  one  is  sched 
uled  for  two  week$,  I  believe.  Imagine  be 
ing  chained  to  the  same  set  of  women  and 
men  for  two  solid  weeks!" 

"Looking  at  it  from  your  peculiar  stand 
point  of  social  affairs,  I  suppose  you're 
right,"  commented  the  secretary.  "But 
you  are  the  only  man  in  existence— so  far 

320 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

as  I  know— who  can  carry  out  just  what  an 
invitation  to  this  affair  would  begin.  Senor 
de  Cabanas  and  his  wife  are  to  be  guests— 
and  Gilbert  Clayton  will  also  be  there " 

Norroy  smiled  slightly  and  tapped  the 
corner  of  his  cigarette  case  on  the  table.  He 
scrutinized  the  secretary  with  his  cold  eyes. 

"So  the  scandal  club  influences  even  the 
secretary  of  state,"  he  observed,  lightly.  He 
rolled  a  cigarette  between  his  white  fingers 
and  blew  the  tobacco  away.  "Even  the  sec 
retary  of  state,"  he  repeated. 

"Not  the  scandal  club,  Yorke,"  respond 
ed  the  secretary,  gently.  "I  ~know.  It  has 
gone  considerably  further  than  scandal.  I 
have  female  relatives  in  Washington,  you 
know.  I  also  have  some  clever  agents  wiio 
move  in  Washington  circles.  Incidentally,  I 
attended  the  ball  given  by  the  Andevian 
minister  several  weeks  ago.  Accidentally,  I 
overheard  a  conversation  between  a  certain 
lady  and  Gilbert  Clayton." 

"Then,  to  put  it  very  concisely,  Mr.  Sec 
retary ?"  suggested  Norroy. 

321 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

" Quite  so!  Quite  so"!"  nodded  the  chief 
of  the  state  department.  "You  are  right, 
Yorke.  There  is  no  need  to  beat  about  the 
bush.  To  begin  with  facts :  Eugenio  de  Ca 
banas  is  the  ambassador  to  the  United  States 
from  the  republic  of  Andevia " 

"Exhibit  A,"  interjected  Norroy,  with  a 
faint  smile. 

"The  Senora  Cecilia  de  Cabanas  is  a 
young  and  pretty  woman.  Incidentally,  she 
is  an  American  girl.  She  has  been  the  wife 
of  Cabanas  for  a  year.  He  married  her  be 
cause  she  was  wealthy  and  he  needed  her 
wealth.  She  married  him  because  he  is  a 
diplomat  and  has  a  Spanish  title  which  is 
as  old  as  the  Cid.  Her  father  was  a  leather 
tanner  and  her  mother  a  factory  girl.  By 
virtue  of  her  marriage,  she  is  a  light  in  what 
we  are  pleased  to  term  ' society'  here  in 
Washington." 

"Being  Exhibit  B,"  again  broke  in  Nor- 
roy. 

"Precisely.  Exhibit  C,  to  carry  out  your 
metaphor,  is  Gilbert  Clayton,  son  of  the  f  or- 

322 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

mer  president  of  Andevia  and  the  heir  to  a 
great  fortune.  Came  to  the  United  States 
from  Andevia  as  secretary  of  legation.  Is 
young,  handsome  and,  as  before  stated, 
wealthy.  By  nature  a  rash,  headstrong 
youth,  who  has  had  his  way  for  so  long  a 
time  that  he  is  incorrigible." 

"Then  the  case  evidently  stands  thus: 
With  your  permission,  Mr.  Secretary- 
Clayton  is  in  love  with  Senor  de  Cabanas' 
Iwif e.  Cabanas  is  in  love  with  his  wife,  al 
so,  a  growth  since  his  marriage.  His  wife 
is  not  in  love  with  him,  but  maybe  is  in  love 
with  Clayton.  That's  the  situation.  May  I 
ask  how  all  this  bears  on  the  business  of  the 
state  department  ? ' ' 

"You  may— you  certainly  may,"  replied 
the  secretary.  "Andevia  is,  at  the  present 
time,  on  the  eve  of  making  certain  conces 
sions  to  the  United  States  which  will  enable 
her  to  perfect  a  commercial  arrangement  of 
which  you  know— I  need  not  go  into  details 
on  that,  need  I?" 

"No,  it  isn't  necessary,"  answered  the 

323 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

secret  agent,  lighting  the  cigarette  which  he 
had  been  fingering. 

"Very  well.  Senor  de  Cabanas  has  been 
the  instrument  through  which  the  United 
States  has  been  enabled  to  make  this  ar 
rangement.  If  he  were  to  be  removed  at 
the  present  time,  the  thing  would  fall 
through.  This  would  mean  considerable  loss 
of  money  to  the  United  States,  and,  what  is 
worse,  it  would  place  this  country  in  a  posi 
tion  that  would  call  down  upon  the  state  de 
partment  the  censure  of  the  press  and  the 
people,  besides  making  us  the  laughing-stock 
of  European  diplomatic  circles,  which,  nat 
urally,  would  be  a  condition  of  affairs  we 
desire  to  avoid." 

"Bather,"  responded  Norroy,  dryly. 

"From  what  I  have  myself  heard,  from 
what  I  have  learned,  and  from  what  Ferris, 
Huntley  Carson,  and  others  have  been  de 
tailed  to  discover,  Senora  de  Cabanas  is 
ready  to  run  away  from  Washington,  elope 
with  this  young  Gilbert  Clayton.  Suppose 
such  a  thing  happened?  Cabanas  would  be 

324 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

immediately  recalled  by  his  government; 
would  ask  to  be  recalled,  in  fact.  He  could 
not  stand  the  shame  of  such  a  position.  Nor 
would  Andevia  tolerate  an  ambassador 
whose  marital  affairs  placed  the  country  in 
such  a  light.  Result :  Cabanas  recalled,  the 
arrangement  of  which  I  speak  falls 
through.'' 

Norroy  puffed  at  his  cigarette  for  some 
moments  before  he  commented  upon  what 
the  secretary  had  said.  Finally  he  tossed  the 
cigarette  into  the  ash-receiver  and  looked  his 
chief  squarely  in  the  eyes. 

"What  is  the  answer?"  he  wished  to 
know. 

"The  answer?  I  should  think  it  would 
have  been  easy  to  read.  The  answer  is, 
Yorke,  that  the  government  of  the  United 
States,  not  wishing  such  a  state  of  affairs  to 
come  to  pass,  has  decided  to  preserve  the  in 
tegrity  of  Senor  de  Cabanas'  household." 

Norroy  smiled.  "And  with  that  end  in 
view?" 

"It  calls  on  Mr.  Yorke  Norroy  to  consum- 

325 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

mate  its  end.  In  plain  words,  Yorke,  you 
will  prevent  a  scandal.  You  will  not  only 
see  that  this  elopement  does  not  occur,  but 
you  will  manage  the  affair  in  such  a  way  that 
Senor  de  Cabanas  will  not  suspect  that  such 
a  thing  was  ever  contemplated.  You  will 
also  teach  the  Senora  de  Cabanas  that  such 
affairs  are  not  fitting  in  the  wife  of  a  man 
who  represents  his  native  land  in  a  foreign 
country." 

"Oh!"  ejaculated  Yorke  Norroy.  "X)h, 
that's  it,  eh?"  His  cold  eyes  twinkled. 
"Rather  unusual  work  for  a  secret  agent, 
isn't  it,  Mr.  Secretary?  And,  by  the  way, 
since  you  have  told  me  what  I  am  going  to 
do,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  reveal  to  me  the 
methods  which  will  bring  the  affair  to  such 
an  ending  as  you  describe  ?  I  am  not  a  hyp 
notist,  a  mesmerist,  nor  any  *ist'  that  con 
trols  the  will  of  other  people.  Nor  have  I 
the  power  to  keep  apart  two  people  who  love 
one  another.  'A  woman's  will  is  the  wind's 
will,'  you  know." 

The  secretary  arose.    "I  don't  think  it  is 

326 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

necessary  for  me  to  suggest  anything  fur 
ther  than  that  you  accept  the  invitation  to 
the  Cochranes'  house  party.  After  that,  I 
will  leave  it  to  you.  You  have  never  yet 
failed.  You  are  in  possession  of  a  fund  of 
ingenuity  which  has  brought  many  tasks 
more  difficult  than  this  through  in  the  man 
ner  desired.  Also,  you  know  more  about 
women  and  their  ways  than  is  given  to  most 
men  to  understand.  This  is  Friday,  is  it 
not?  The  Cochranes  have  issued  the  invi 
tations  for  Saturday  morning.  Suppose 
you  call  around  and  see  Lloyd  Cochrane  this 
afternoon.  Good  afternoon,  Yorke." 

Norroy  shook  his  hand,  the  merry  twinkle 
still  in  his  eye.  " Don't  blame  me  if  I  score 
a  failure  this  time,  Mr.  Secretary,"  he  said. 

When  the  head  of  the  state  department 
had  taken  his  departure,  Yorke  Norroy  re 
sumed  his  seat  and  gave  himself  over  to 
thought.  Presently  he  looked  at  his  watch 
and  arose. 

"  *  A  woman's  will  is  the  wind's  will,'  "  he 
sighed.  "And  a  house  party— for  two 

327 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

weeks."  His  tones  expressed  mild  disgust. 
On  returning  to  his  apartment,  lie  found 
that  the  invitation  was  there,  as  he  had  sur 
mised.  Below  the  formal  engraved  portion 
of  the  card  was  written,  in  a  woman's  hand 
—the  writing  of  Mrs.  Lloyd  Cochrane : 

Do  come,  Yorke'.  We  intend  to  have  some  amateur 
theatricals,  and  there's  no  one  who  can  arrange  them 
quite  like  you.  Lloyd  joins  me  in  this  request. 

There  was  nothing  to  that.  Norroy  had 
a  dozen  other  invitations  to  spend  the 
Christmas  holidays,  and  each  one  had  some 
thing  similar  written  on  it  in  the  hand  of  the 
hostess.  For  Yorke  Norroy  was,  deservedly, 
a  popular  man  among  the  Washington  set. 
First,  because  he  had  many  ingenious  ways 
of  amusing  a  crowd;  second,  because  his 
family  was  one  of  the  few  that  our  English 
cousins  across  the  way  saw  fit  to  include  in 
the  " American  Aristocracy,"  and  third,  be 
cause  his  personality  was  illusive  and  in 
scrutable.  Not  one  of  the  people  who  so  in 
vited  him  was  aware  of  his  connection  with 
the  department  of  state. 

328 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Norroy  put  Mrs.  Cochrane's  invitation  in 
Ms  pocket  and  sallied  out  for  the  Coch- 
ranes'  Dupont  Circle  home.  After  seeing 
Mrs.  Cochrane  and  listening  to  her  sugges 
tions,  he  arose  with  a  promise  to  present 
himself  at  the  Pennsylvania  Railroad  sta 
tion  the  following  day  at  eleven,  where  the 
train  would  be  taken  for  the  Cochranes' 
country  place. 

" There  will  be  a  jolly  lot,"  Mrs.  Coehrane 
had  said.  "You'll  have  no  end  of  amuse 
ment." 

"Yes,  I  rather  fancy  I  shall  have  consider 
able  amusement,"  was  Norroy 's  reply.  But 
it  did  not  mean  what  she  imagined  it  did. 


329 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  FOLLY  OF  YOUNG  GILBERT  CLAYTON. 

What  particular  charm  lay  for  Norroy  in 
the  room  which  he  selected,  Mrs.  Cochrane 
could  not  exactly  see.  She  had  shown  him  a 
plan  of  the  house  as  they  sat  in  the  Pullman, 
whirling  southward,  and  Norroy  had  placed 
his  finger  on  a  certain  spot  which  indicated 
that  a  room  was  empty.  "Have  my  traps 
put  in  there,  Molly,"  he  had  requested. 

"But  that's  in  the  old  wing  of  the  house. 
We  put  only  the  married  couples  there,  be 
cause  the  rooms  are  larger.  That  room  you 
point  out  is  little  and  not  furnished  very 
well,"  she  remonstrated.  "It  hasn't  even 
a  private  bath." 

"But  it  is  in  the  old  wing,  and  it  overlooks 
the  creek,"  Norroy  had  insisted.  He  had 
been  to  the  Cochranes'  place  before  during 
the  fox-hunting  period.  "I  like  old  roomSc 
And,  besides,  there's  the  view " 

330 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Oh,  very  well,"  she  returned.  "Have 
it  your  own  way,  Yorke.  I  was  thinking  of 
putting  you  here"— she  pointed  to  another 
room  marked  unoccupied.  "It's  a  much 
better  room.  But  have  it  your  own  way." 

So  it  was  that  Yorke  Norroy  was  installed 
in  the  room  directly  across  the  passage  from 
the  one  which  held  the  ambassador  from  An- 
devia  and  his  pretty  wife.  But  any  notion 
that  this  was  the  reason  for  selection  did  not 
occur  to  Mrs.  Cochrane,  for  she  was  well 
informed  as  to  the  circle  of  Norroy 's  ac 
quaintances,  and  she  knew  that  neither  the 
ambassador  nor  his  wife  had  more  than  a 
bowing  acquaintance  with  him. 

During  the  few  days  that  still  antedated 
Christmas,  it  did  not  seem  that  Norroy  had 
much  opportunity  to  observe  the  goings  and 
comings  of  the  three  people  on  whose  cases 
the  secretary  had  detailed  him.  On  ques 
tions  of  decoration  and  arrangement,  the  as 
sistance  of  Yorke  Norroy  was  coveted,  and, 
having  delivered  himself  into  the  hands  of 
Mrs.  Cochrane,  he  could  not  well  refuse  to 

331 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

give  her  the  benefit  of  his  taste  and  discern 
ment.  Consequently,  he  became  installed  as 
Molly  Cochrane's  assistant  on  the  holiday 
arrangements,  and  the  two  spent  much  time 
together  in  the  ballroom  of  the  Virginia 
mansion,  where,  aided  by  the  servants,  they 
changed  the  oaken-floored,  tapestry-walled 
apartment  into  a  veritable  fairyland  of  hol 
ly,  mistletoe,  fir  and  spruce,  bedecked  with 
candles  and  tinsel. 

All  this  took  time,  and  was  carefully  hid 
den  from  the  rest  of  the  party.  It  was  in 
tended  that  the  Christmas  decorations 
should  come  as  a  surprise  to  them,  and,  con 
sequently,  during  their  working  hours,  the 
two  decorators  shut  themselves  up  in  the 
great  room  and  saw  no  one. 

"I  declare,  I  have  a  right  to  be  jealous," 
Lloyd  Cochrane  had  said,  laughingly.  "My 
wife  closeted  for  four  hours  a  day  with  the 
most  desired  man  in  Washington.  Be  care 
ful,  Yorke.  This  is  a  good  place  for  a  duel, 
you  know.  The  spirit  of  my  ancestors  speaks 
loudly  in  these  walls." 

332 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

But,  in  spite  of  Ms  work  on  the  decora 
tions,  the  tableaux  and  the  theatricals,  Yorke 
Norroy  did  not  by  any  chance  lose  sight  of 
the  real  reason  for  his  being  at  Coehrane- 
croft.  Twice,  gun  in  hand,  he  had  come 
across  the  Senora  de  Cabanas  and  young 
Clayton  walking  in  the  woods,  and  on 
neither  occasion  had  he  given  them  either 
visual  or  auricular  notice  of  his  presence, 
although  it  was  perfectly  plain  to  see  that 
he  was  simply  out  on  a  gunning  trip. 

Another  time  he  had  joined  a  party  of 
skaters  from  the  house,  and,  selecting  Mona 
Larrabee  as  his  companion,  had  managed 
to  keep  Clayton  and  his  vis-a-vis  in  sight, 
seemingly  by  accident.  Mona  Larrabee  was, 
undoubtedly,  one  of  the  foremost  members 
of  the  scandal  club.  She  had  not  a  single 
thought  of  any  weight  in  her  pretty  little 
head,  and  was,  consequently,  forced  to  make 
conversation  out  of  the  foibles  and  faux  pas 
of  her  acquaintances.  Were  the  slightest 
breath  of  suspicion  raised  as  to  the  charac 
ter  of  any  woman,  Mona  Larrabee  knew  of 

333 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

it,  and  when  retol'd,  it  assumed  proportions 
that  were  hardly  credible. 

She  admired  Norroy  immensely,  as  did 
most  of  the  women  of  his  acquaintance, 
mostly  because  she  did  not  understand  the 
man,  and  therefore,  was  obliged  to  look  up 
to  him  to  a  certain  extent.  The  fact  that  he 
had  chosen  her  as  his  companion  for  the 
skating  gave  her  several  little  thrills,  and  she 
was  exerting  herself  to  be  bright,  lively,  and 
entertaining.  Had  she  known  that  Norroy 
had  selected  her  for  the  purpose  of  hearing 
her  talk  on  a  certain  subject,  she  would  hard 
ly  have  been  flattered. 

The  majority  of  the  skaters  chose  the 
widening  of  the  stream  for  their  sport,  and 
here  it  was  that  the  fun  waged  the  thickest. 
The  n)'J"  ^nd  women,  released  from  the  con- 
vertfiviiis  of  the  city,  forgot  their  grown-up- 
n<  s  and  frolicked  about  on  the  glassy  sur 
face  with  all  the  keen  delight  of  childhood. 
The  stream  at  this  point  ran  through  the 
CV  rane  gron*  -V  and  was,  consequently, 
a  private  p-  ^.  Therefore,  the  mem- 

334 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

bers  of  the  house  party  were  not  compelled 
to  skate  in  company  with  those  they  did  not 
know. 

The  ambassador  from  Andevia  had  re 
mained  in  the  house.  He  did  not  understand 
skating,  and,  besides,  his  thin,  tropical  blood 
was  not  equal  to  enjoyment  in  the  open  in 
winter  time.  But  his  wife  was  there,  and 
with  her,  as  usual,  young  Gilbert  Clayton. 

For  all  Yorke  Norroy  appeared  to  join  in 
the  games  and  to  listen  to  the  prattle  of  pret 
ty  Mona  Larrabee,  he  noticed  that  the  Se- 
nora  de  Cabanas  and  Clayton  had  detached 
themselves  from  the  rest  of  the  party,  and 
were  skating,  arm  in  arm,  up  the  creek  and 
toward  the  bend,  where  the  trees  and  bushes 
hid  its  upper  reaches  from  the  view  of  those 
on  the  lower  part.  He  waited  foi  %em  to 
disappear  around  it,  however,  before  JL& De 
termined  to  follow  them. 

"What  do  you  say  to  a  race  up  the  creek, 
Mona?"  he  suggested. 

"Yes,r  ^  -ri  "That's  b.^r 

than  ska  ~^ter  ^<*y  to  ^  How  milch 

337 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 


start  will  you  give  me?" 

"Two  hundred  yards,"  lie  answered,  as 
they  skated  out  of  the  crowd.  "Now- 
ready— go!" 

The  lithe  figure  of  the  girl  shot  forward, 
and  Norroy  waited  until  the  two  hundred 
yards  had  been  fairly  taken.  Then  he 
started  in  pursuit,  not  straining  himself, 
and  allowing  the  girl  to  keep  the  lead. 

But,  as  he  turned  the  bend  in  the  creek,  he 
noticed  that  Miss  Larrabee  had  ceased  her 
course,  and  was  standing  beneath  the 
branches  of  an  oak  tree  which  grew  on  the 
water's  edge,  awaiting  his  coming  up. 

When  he  reached  her,  he  gave  her  a  look 
of  assumed  surprise.  "Tired?"  he  asked. 

"No,"  she  shook  her  head.  "Don't  let's 
go  any  farther,  that's  all." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  he  responded,  pulling 
off!  his  glove  and  reaching  for  his  cigarette 
case.  He  lit  one  of  its  contents.  "We'll 
go  back,  then." 

"Do  you  know  why  I  don't  want  to  go 
any  further?"  step  ? 

334 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"No,"  he  responded,  faint  interest  in  his 
tone. 

"Mrs.  de  Cabanas  and  Mr.  Clayton  are 
right  ahead.  They're  sitting  under  a  tree. 
I  saw  them." 

"Well?"  His  inflection  showed  that  he 
was  slightly  amused. 

"I  wouldn't  have  them  think  we  were  fol 
lowing  them.  But,  really,  they  must  give 
us  credit  for  very  little  sense.  I  should 
think  the  ambassador's  eyes  would  be 
opened  sometime." 

"Gossip!  Gossip!"  he  said,  shaking  his 
finger,  warningly.  "He  turns  her  over  to 
Clayton,  very  likely.  Why  should  women 
always  impute  motives  ?" 

The  retort  angered  Miss  Larrabee.  "At 
any  rate,  we  can't  help  but  see  a  thing  when 
•it's  thrust  under  our  very  noses.  I  don't 
gossip.  I  never  gossip.  You  can  ask  Edith. 
I  don't  try  to  find  things  out." 

The  conversation  was  progressing  along 
just  the  lines  that  Norroy  intended.  He 
knew  no  better  way  to  get  the  truth  out  of  a 

337 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

woman  than  to  banteringly  deny  what  she 
said. 

"  All  theory,  Mona,"  he  continued,  as  they 
skated  slowly  back  toward  the  house.  '  '  You 
haven't  a  single  bit  of  ground  for  your  sus 
picions.  You  impute— you  imagine.  Thus 
a  woman's  character  is  ruined " 

"Oh,  very  well,  Yorke  Norroy,"  she  re 
turned,  her  cheeks  flushing.  "Suppose  I 
should  tell  you  something  that  would  con 
vince  you  that  I  have  grounds?  Not  that 
I  care  what  you  think " 

"I'd  rather  not  hear  it,"  he  observed, 
carelessly.  "I  know  the  grounds  that  wo 
men  have " 

"Well,  I  shall  tell  you,  then,  just  to  prove 
to  you  that  women  have  as  good  grounds  for 
their  suspicions  as  men.  I  was  in  the  library 
last  night,  back  in  one  of  those  little  alcoves. 
I  had  no  idea  of  listening  to  anyone.  Be 
sides,  it  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock,  and  I 
didn't  think  anyone  would  be  in  at  that 
hour.  I  left  the  Middlesons  and  the  Park 
ers  playing  chess,  and  stole  back  to  the 

338 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

library  to  get  a  book ;  I  had  begun  it  in  the 
morning  and  was  interested.  Besides,  I 
wasn't  sleepy.  I  was  fumbling  around  for 
the  electric  light  in  the  alcove,  when  the 
door  opened  and  two  people  came  in.  Then 
I  heard  Mr.  Clayton  say  something  about 
loving  her  enough  to  give  up  everything,  and 
she  telling  him  not  to  touch  her.  Of  course, 
I  knew  who  it  was  the  minute  they  spoke, 
but  I  couldn't  turn  on  the  light  after  hear 
ing  it.  So  I  just  sat  still.  She  said  she  had 
a  husband  who  loved  her,  and  he  said  that 
Senor  de  Cabanas  didn't  love  her.  That  he 
loved  her  money,  and  all  that  kind  of  thing. 
He  talked  on  about  those  things  until  she 
got  very  angry,  and  said  something  about 
her  husband  being  a  brute  to  speak  about 
his  wife  in  such  a  manner.  Then  Mr.  Clay 
ton  told  her  there  was  a  two  o'clock  train, 
and  that  they  could  take  it,  and  by  the  next 
morning  be  in  New  York  and  engaging 
passage  for  Europe.  But  she  said  'no.'  Then 
she  said  the  minute  after,  'We  should  wait 
until  after  Christmas'— and " 


339 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Out  'of  your  track  a  little  bit,  aren't 
you?"  came  the  cheery  voice  of  Tommy 
Fielding,  who  suddenly  turned  the  curve. 
"This  skating  is  poor.  I'm  going  back." 

"I  think  we'd  better,"  agreed  the  blonde 
girl  on  his  arm.  "How  was  it  up  the  river?" 

"Bather  full  of  bumps— and  jolts,"  re 
sponded  Norroy,  gravely.  The.  other  two 
turned. 

"And  Mr.  Clayton  said  ' After  Christmas, 
then.  I  ask  for  no  better  Christmas  pres 
ent.'  And  then— he  kissed  her." 

"H'm!"  commented  Yorke  Norroy. 
"Have  you  told  this  to  anyone  else,  Mona?" 

' '  No,  I  haven 't, ' '  snapped  the  girl.  ' '  And 
I  only  told  it  to  you  to  show  you  that " 

"Never  mind,"  interrupted  Norroy.  "I 
understand.  You  were  right.  I  was  wrong. 
But  don't  tell  it  to  anyone  else." 

"I  told  you  I  was  not  a  gossip."  Actual 
ly  the  girl  believed  that  she  was  not,  and 
really  her  scandalmongery  came  from  sheer 
inability  to  hold  her  tongue  rather  than 
from  any  malice  aforethought. 

340 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Well,  I  believe  you,"  said  Norroy,  slow 
ly.  "I  believe  you,  Mona.  But  I  want  you 
to  give  me  your  promise,  and  I'll  tell  you 
why.  I  am  going  to  take  a  hand  in  this  mat 
ter.  Mrs.  de  Cabanas  does  not  love  young 
Clayton.  She  has  simply  taken  up  with  him 
because  she  does  not  understand  her  hus 
band.  Now,  there  is  no  reason  why  there 
should  be  another  diplomatic  scandal,  is 
there  ?  All  that  is  necessary  to  do  is  to  con 
vince  the  ambassador's  wife  of  Clayton's 
pettiness ;  which,  with  your  assistance,  I  am 
going  to  do." 

His  words  carried  conviction  witK  them. 
Mona  Larrabee  looked  up  at  him,  admira 
tion  in  her  glance.  "I'll  do  all  I  can  to 
help, ' '  she  announced.  '  *  What  shall  it  be  ?  " 

"Keeping  quiet  when  the  subject  of  their 
affair  is  mentioned,  to  begin  with—you 
promise  that —faithfully  ? ' ' 

"Faithfully,"  she  returned.  "Eeally,  I 
won't  say  a  word,  Yorke." 

"And,  second,  by  keeping  your  ears  open 
and  letting  nae  know  if  an  elopement  is  im- 

341 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

minent.    But  do  it  in  such  a  way  that  no 
suspicion  will  be  aroused.     You  promise 
that,  Mona?" 
I     She  nodded,  vigorously. 

"Very  well,  then.  I  believe  you— and  I 
trust  you.  Don't  give  me  reason  to  regret 
it." 

"I  won't.  Really,  I  won't,  Yorke,"  she 
said,  earnestly.  And  Yorke  Norroy  knew 
from  her  tone  that  she  cared  more  for  the 
retainment  of  his  respect  than  she  did  to 
be  the  first  to  circulate  a  piece  of  scandal. 

Nevertheless,  as  he  thought  the  matter 
over  that  night,  he  was  far  from  satisfied. 
He  did  not  care  to  trust  a  woman  with  a 
secret.  Of  course,  it  was  not  his  own  secret, 
nor  had  he  told  Mona  Larrabee  anything. 
He  had  adopted  the  only  means  for  keeping 
her  quiet  that  came  to  his  mind.  Not  that 
he  was  unconvinced  that  she  would  keep  her 
word,  but  Norroy  had  a  peculiar  pride  in 
his  mission,  the  same  consisting  of  the  de 
sire  to  accomplish  his  purposes  alone  and 
without  aid  from  anyone. 

342 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

He  had  learned  a  great  deal  that  he  wished 
to  know,  however,  from  the  little  scatter- 
brain,  and  finally  his  feeling  of  self-satis 
faction  returned  and  he  whistled  a  music- 
hall  air. 


343 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  SPECIAL  CAR  FOR  NEW  YOKK. 

Mona  Larrabee  was  as  good  as  her  word, 
as  Norroy  hoped  she  would  be.  This  little 
person  respected  Norroy  to  a  great  extent, 
and  it  gave  her  a  considerable  sense  of  im 
portance  to  be  intrusted  with  his  confidence. 
So  for  the  next  few  days  she  went  about  the 
house  with  her  small,  pink  ears  perked  up 
for  anything  which  might  throw  the  faint 
est  light  on  the  situation  impending.  Daily 
she  held  conversations  with  Norroy  in 
some  secluded  corner,  telling  him  what 
she  had  learned— which  was  little,  but,  by 
the  same  token,  all  that  was  in  the  air. 

Senor  de  Cabanas  had  lately  become  a 
slave  to  the  poker  habit,  the  fine  points  of 
which  he  was  gradually  acquiring,  and  he 
spent  most  of  his  time  in  the  smoking  room 
with  Lloyd  Cochrane  and  others,  playing  the 

344 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

game,  and  generally  losing.  Cabanas  was  a 
very  likable  fellow,  and,  strangely  for  a  man 
of  Spanish  extraction,  trusted  his  wife  to  an 
extent  almost  inconceivable.  He  was  a 
friend  of  Clayton's  father,  and  the  young 
ster  was  looked  upon  by  him  almost  in  the 
light  of  a  son.  Indeed,  it  was  Cabanas  him 
self  who  had  requested  his  appointment  as 
secretary  of  legation. 

The  fact  that  Gilbert  amused  his  wife  ap 
pealed  to  Cabanas  as  a  very  wise  dispensa 
tion  of  the  fates.  He  himself,  although  he 
loved  this  American  girl  with  all  the  warmth 
and  fervor  of  a  Spaniard,  had  not  the  little 
graces  which  mark  the  average  Anglo-Sax 
on  husband's  treatment  of  a  wife.  When 
alone  with  her  he  would  give  his  love  full 
play,  much  the  same  as  he  would  have  treat 
ed  anything  that  appealed  to  his  artistic 
soul.  But  a  consistently  loving  treatment 
was  something  he  had  not  imagined.  He  had 
the  Old  World  conception  of  women  to  too 
great  an  extent— creatures  to  be  petted  and 
humored,  and  to  be  loved  at  such  times  as 

345 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

it  pleased  their  masters  to  show  affection  for 
them. 

It  was  a  mode  of  procedure  which  was 
not  in  line  with  the  views  of  his  wife.  She 
might  have  respected,  even  loved,  him  if  he 
had  been  consistently  cold.  She  might  have 
adored  him  if  he  had  shown  warmth 
throughout  their  entire  relations  with  one 
another.  But,  as  it  was,  she  almost  hated 
him  for  his  disregard  of  her,  and  despised 
his  weakness  when  he  flamed  out  into  fervid 
Latin  protestations. 

At  the  time  when  she  had  fully  decided 
that  she  cared  nothing  for  her  Andevian 
husband,  Gilbert  Clayton  came  to  the  lega 
tion.  He  was  young,  well-favored,  and  gave 
her  the  fervor  of  a  boyish  love.  She  had 
not  taken  him  seriously  at  first.  But  as  her 
love  for  her  husband  seemed  to  wane  and 
die,  she  found  that  she  must  have  some  sub 
stitute.  So  Clayton  grew  into  her  affec 
tions. 

Had  the  woman  come  from  a  stock  with 
family  traditions,  her  pride  would  have  sent 

346 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

the  boy  from  her.  But  she  was  very  near 
the  earth.  Her  father  had  been  a  laborer, 
and  her  mother  of  the  sanle  degree.  They 
had  not  taught  her  to  repress  her  emotions 
—and  she  had  not  learned  on  her  own  initia 
tive. 

But  a  few  days  before  coming  to  the  Coch- 
ranes,  Gilbert  Clayton  had  reached  his 
twenty-fifth  year;  and,  true  to  a  promise 
made  earlier  in  his  son's  life,  Milner  Clay 
ton  had  transferred  an  account  which 
reached  into  the  hundred  thousands  to  his 
son's  account  in  Washington.  This  had 
made  the  young  man  independent.  And— 
All  during  lunch  Mona  Larrabee  had  been 
making  signs  to  Norroy.  After  the  meal 
was  over,  he  took  the  first  opportunity  to 
join  her  in  the  library. 

"Well,  Mona?"  he  inquired,  when  he  was 
sure  that  there  were  none  to  hear.  "Tell 
me— anything  new  ?  I'll  have  to  hurry  back 
and  join  Molly  Cochrane,  you  know.  We 
throw  open  the  ballroom  to-night.  Christ- 

347 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

mas  eve,  you  know!" 

"Yes,  I  know.  But  this  is  something  im 
portant,  Yorke— -I  could  hardly  wait  to  tell 
you.  I  heard  Mrs.  de  Cabanas  say  to  Mr. 
Clayton  in  Spanish—you  know  I  under 
stand  it  very  well,  because  I  was  on  one  of 
father's  Cuban  plantations  for  nearly  a  year 
—she  said,  not  thinking  I'd  understand,  of 
course— you  know,  it  was  in  the  billiard 
room.  They  were  leaning  on  their  cues  and 
talking  when  I  came  in  with  Roily  Parker. 
Of  course,  they  knew  he  didn't  understand, 
and  they  supposed  I  didn't.  They  were  talk 
ing  in  English  before  we  came  in—  I  know 
that ;  but  they  finished  in  Spanish " 

"Well?"  asked  Norroy,  amusedly.  ".What 
did  they  say?" 

"Why,  he  said:  'We  can  catch  the  Ger- 
mania  to-morrow,  if  we  leave  on  the  two 
o'clock  train  to-night.'  And  she  said— she 
was  angry,  too— 'I  told  you  I  wouldn't  leave 
until  after  Christmas— well,  I  don't  think 
I '11  leave  at  all  now.'" 

"Well?" 

348 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"That  was  all  they  said,  except  he  growled 
out:  'I'll  do  it  anyhow— suit  yourself— but 
I  '11  do  it. '  And  she  said :  '  I  wouldn  't  waste 
my  money,  if  I  were  you.'  But  from  the  way 
she  said  it,  it  sounded  as  though  she  were 
going  to  give  in.  And  he  said:  'I'm  going 
down  now— do  you  want  to  come  ? '  And  she 
said  she  didn't  and  began  to  knock  balls 
around  with  her  cue,  as  though  she  was  talk 
ing  of  something  that  didn't  amount  to 
much.  She  speaks  fearful  Spanish,  and  I 
could  hardly  understand  her— but  that's 
about  what  they  said." 

Norroy  thanked  her,  but  his  look  was  puz 
zled.  Exactly  what  the  conversation  meant 
he  did  not  know.  He  remembered  now  that 
Clayton  had  left  the  house  in  his  automobile 
a  little  before  lunch,  and  had  not  yet  re 
turned.  When  he  joined  Molly  Cochrane  in 
the  ballroom,  he  took  the  first  opportunity 
to  ask  if  any  of  the  guests  were  leaving  be 
fore  the  mask  ball,  which  was  scheduled  for 
the  night— Christmas  eve. 

"Why,  no,"  she  answered.    "Why?" 

349 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Oh,  I  saw  young  Clayton  pulling  out  in 
his  auto.  I  thought  maybe ' ' 

"He's  not  going.  He  went  down  to  the 
railroad  station  to  get  a  special  delivery 
package— so  he  said— something  the  station 
agent  telephoned  him  about." 

Several  hours  later,  when  Norroy  had 
seen  Clayton  return  without  any  such 
package,  his  eyes  lighted  up  a  trifle.  He 
went  to  his  room. 

For  the  convenience  of  her  guests, 
Mrs.  Cochrane  had  gone  to  the  trouble  of 
having  telephones  installed  in  all  the  bed 
rooms.  These  connected  with  the  various 
parts  of  the  house,  and  had  also  a  long-dis 
tance  connection.  Norroy  asked  for  the  girl 
who  acted  as  clerk  for  the  station  agent  at 
Fauquier,  the  railroad  station. 

"Hello— is  this  the  station  agent?  This 
is  Mrs.  Cochrane 's.  Have  you  a  special  de 
livery  package  for  Mr.  Clayton?  Yes— Mr. 
Gilbert  Clayton— no?  Well,  you  did  havq 
one?  No?  Well,  wasn't  Mr.  Clayton  down 
there  this  morning?  Yes— I  thought  so. 

350 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

He  was  thinking  of  running  up  to  Washing 
ton.  He  hasn't  returned  to  the  house  yet— 
has  he  gone?  No?  Well,  I  told  him  to  get 
me  tickets  for  to-night's  train— did  he  get 
them?  I  was  afraid  there  wouldn't  be  a 
train  at  two  o'clock.  Oh,  there  is,  then. 
That's  good.  So  he  got  the— what,  a  special 
car?  A  special  car,  you  say?  That's  the 
New  York  express  ?  Special  through  to  New 
York— well,  that's  right.  Thank  you.  Yes. 
Good-by." 

Norroy  put  down  the  receiver.  The  pur 
port  of  the  conversation  was  plain  enough 
now.  As  he  began  to  change  his  clothes  for 
dinner  he  ruminated,  and  the  results  of  the 
ruminations  led  to  an  inspection  of  the  bath 
room  across  the  way. 

As  Mrs.  Cochrane  had  said,  there  was  no 
private  bath  attached  to  Norroy 's  room;  but 
to  offset  this  disadvantage— which  was  also 
that  of  Roland  Parker's,  who  had  the  next 
room  to  Norroy— the  private  bath  to  Mrs. 
de  Cabanas'  room  had  been  locked  on  both 
sides,  and  it  was  here  that  Messrs.  Norroy 

351 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

and  Parker  made  their  way  each  morning. 
Norroy  had  observed  the  door  the  first  morn 
ing,  and,  with  his  customary  retentiveness. 
the  fact  that  the  door  opened  into  the  Ca 
banas'  suite  remained  in  his  mind. 

The  two  rooms  which  the  ambassador  and 
his  wife  shared  were  intended  for  single 
rooms,  and  consequently  each  one  of  them 
had  a  private  bath  attached.  For  this  rea 
son,  Mrs.  Cochrane  felt  she  was  doing  them 
no  injustice  by  depriving  them  of  one  of 
them.  So  it  was  that  the  room  adjoining 
Mrs.  de  Cabanas'  came  to  be  used  by  Yorke 
Norroy. 

After  closely  observing  the  door  for  sev 
eral  moments,  and  making  quite  sure  that 
Mrs.  de  Cabanas  had  quitted  the  apartment 
adjoining,  Norroy  took  a  bunch  of  skeleton 
keys  from  his  pocket  and  fitted  them,  one 
by  one,  in  the  door.  The  fifth  one  proved 
efficacious.  Norroy  turned  the  lock  and 
opened  the  door.  He  confronted  masses  of 
portieres,  which  had  been  hung  up  to  hide 
the  bare  wood. 


352 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

It  was  all  lie  desired  to  know.  He  did 
not  even  look  into  the  room.  He  closed  the 
door  and  locked  it,  detaching  the  fifth  skele 
ton  key  immediately  afterward. 

"If,"  he  said,  slowly-" if "  He  held 

up  the  key.  The  power  of  following  motives 
and  transforming  them  into  future  actions 
was  a  remarkable  part  of  Norroy 's  make-up. 
A  possibility  had  occurred  to  him,  and  he 
was  preparing  for  the  possibility. 

He  slipped  the  key  into  the  pocket  of  his 
claw-hammer  coat  and  went  into  the  smok 
ing  room,  where  he  found  Cabanas  playing 
poker,  as  usual.  There  Norroy  remained 
until  the  dinner  hour. 

As  he  walked  toward  the  dining-room,  he 
remembered  that  Cabanas  would  eventually 
go  back  to  that  poker  game  which  he  had 
quitted  with  such  reluctance. 

"Is  he  as  blind  as  a  bat,  or  doesn't  he 
care?"  Those  were  the  questions  Norroy 
asked  himself  as  he  seated  himself  beside 
Mona  Larrabee,  after  escorting  her  to  the 
table.  The  guests  had  turned  out  in  full  din- 

353 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

ner  regalia,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  they 
must  change  their  dress  for  their  mask  cos 
tumes  almost  immediately  after.  Norroy 
noted  furtively  that  Mrs.  Cabanas  had  a 
heightened  color,  which  was  not  caused  by 
rouge.  He  also  noticed  that  Gilbert  Clayton 
seemed  to  be  in  good  spirits. 

"All  of  which  proves  nothing,"  he  com 
mented,  mentally.  "But  why  the  special 
car?  Is  it  a  speculation,  or  has  she  given 
her  consent?" 

This  was  the  fourth  question  Norroy  had 
asked  himself,  and  he  was  growing  rather 
weary  of  questions  which  had  no  answers 
that  he  could  give.  So,  for  the  moment,  he 
dismissed  the  subject,  and  nibbled  at  the 
Jiors  d'oeuvres. 


354 


CHAPTER  IV. 

YOKKE  NOKROY— STAGE  MANAGER. 

Certainly  no  better  opportunity  for  clan 
destine  lovers  could  be  given  than  that  same 
mask  ball.  It  had  been  decreed  by  Mrs.  Coch- 
rane  that  conventionality  was  to  be  thrown 
underfoot  and  trodden  upon,  and,  in  order 
that  no  person  should  be  able  to  remind  her 
or  any  of  her  friends  of  the  same  sex  that 
they  had  been  a  trifle  free  in  their  conduct, 
the  rigors  of  mask  costume  had  been  ob 
served  to  the  smallest  detail.  Even  to  Yorke 
Norroy,  who  had  the  Bertillon  system  in  his 
mind  continually,  and  who  could  take  meas 
urements  by  it  mentally,  the  figures  of  the 
majority  of  the  maskers  were  unrecogniz 
able. 

As  may  be  judged,  the  liberty  allowed  by 
such  disguises  gave  rise  to  a  festive  affair, 
in  which  restraint  was  utterly  forgotten. 

355 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

There  were  waltzes,  two-steps  and  even 
cake  walks ;  mazurkas,  lancers,  minuets ;  two 
fair  ones,  wlio  had  evidently  been  preparing 
for  the  occasion,  gave  imitations  of  skirt 
dancers,  and  succeeded  so  well  that  many  of 
the  men  wished  exceedingly  to  know  whom 
they  might  be. 

An  orchestra  had  been  brought  down  from 
Washington,  and,  stationed  behind  screens 
and  ferns,  they  played  the  popular  airs  of 
the  day.  During  the  intermissions,  the  con 
servatory  and  the  morning  room  were  visit 
ed—the  latter  for  the  purpose  of  refresh 
ment,  for  there  stood  huge  silver  bowls,  from 
which  liveried  servants  ladled  out  portions 
of  punch. 

By  the  time  Norroy  had  been  in  the  ball 
room  an  hour,  he  had  identified  young  Clay 
ton.  Having  found  him,  it  was  not  difficult 
to  figure  out  that  the  fair  female  in  the  at 
tire  of  a  Watteau  shepherdess,  who  danced 
with  Clayton  almost  continually,  was  the 
wife  of  the  ambassador  from  Andevia.  So 
Norroy's  eyes  kept  the  figure  of  young  Beau 

356 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Brummell  in  sight,  and  watched  his  comings 
and  goings  with  more  than  usual  interest, 
Part  of  his  watching  bore  the  fruit  of  in 
forming  him  that  the  couple  in  whom  he 
took  so  much  interest  missed  many  of  the 
dances,  and  sat  much  in  the  conservatory. 
Also,  that  their  visits  to  the  morning  room 
were  frequent.  He  need  not  have  been  in 
the  morning  room  to  see  that,  for  it  was  per 
fectly  evident  that  young  Beau  Brummeirs 
legs  were  not  as  steady  as  they  might  be  to 
ward  the  third  hour  of  the  ball. 

There  was  some  one  else  whom  the  melan 
choly  Dane  sought  to  identify.  The  cold 
eyes  behind  the  black  mask  of  the  man  in 
the  attire  of  Hamlet  sought  continually  for 
Mona  Larrabee,  but  it  was  some  time  before 
he  found  her,  in  the  shape  of  a  page  boy  of 
the  days  of  Louis  Quinze,  her  shapely  form 
in  the  velvet  knickerbockers,  silk  stockings, 
red-heeled  slippers  and  tailed  velvet  coat. 
It  was  a  tiny  mole  on  her  chin  which  be 
trayed  Mona,  and  Yorke  Norroy  told  her 
so. 


357 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Ssh!"  she  warned,  in  a  sepulchral  whis 
per.  "Ssh!"  When  he  had  led  her  to  the 
conservatory,  she  watched  him  smoke  and 
listened  to  what  he  had  to  say. 

"You  noticed  the  girl  in  the  pink  Wat- 
teau  attire?"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone.  She 
nodded.  "Mrs.  de  Cabanas— and,  of  course, 
you  know  her  partner  ? ' '  She  nodded  again. 

The  dance  music  struck  up,  and  the  coup 
les  began  to  file  out  of  the  conservatory. 
The  two  of  whom  Norroy  had  spoken 
swished  past  them,  as  did  all  who  had  been 
sitting  in  the  conservatory,  save  only  the 
melancholy  Dane  and  the  little  page  of  the 
Louis  Quinze  period. 

"You  see  where  they  sit?"  Norroy  whis 
pered.  "Eight  there."  He  pointed  to  a  seat 
before  a  bay  window.  "Well— if  you'll  do 
it,  I  want  you  to  lie  down  behind  those  ferns 
as  though  you  were  asleep.  It's  dark  over 
there,  and,  besides,  your  costume  harmonizes 
with  the  greenery.  I  couldn  't  do  it.  I  'm  too 
tall."  Quickly  he  told  her  of  the  special  car. 
"We  must  know  definitely  whether  or  not 

358 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

they  intend  to  take  it,  if  we  are  going  to  pre 
vent  them— you  understand?" 

"I  don't  like  to  eavesdrop,"  objected  the 
girl. 

" It's  in  a  good  cause,"  answered  Norroy. 
"And,  besides,  if  you're  discovered,  there's 
no  risk  for  you.  You  know  too  much  for 
them  to  dare  unmask  you— and,  besides,  I'll 
be  somewhere  near  by.  Will  you  do  it- 
quick?  The  music  is  going  to  stop." 

"Yes,"  agreed  the  girl,  rather  unwilling 
ly.  "I '11  do  it. ' '  She  moved  across  the  room 
and  lay  face  downward  in  the  place  which 
Norroy  had  pointed  out.  A  moment  later, 
Norroy  was  in  the  morning  room,  and  the 
couples  had  begun  to  file  into  the  conserva 
tory  again. 

From  morning  room  he  wandered  to  the 
smoking  room,  where,  as  he  had  surmised, 
he  discovered  four  masked  men  playing  po 
ker.  It  was  not  difficult  to  see  that  Cabanas 
was  one  of  them,  for  his  mask  was  tilted  and 
showed  his  pointed  Vandyke  beard.  As 
Norroy  watched  them,  without  revealing  his 

359 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

identity,  another  man  came  in.  It  was  young 
Beau  Brummell.  He  remained  but  for  a 
moment,  then  made  his  exit. 

It  seemed  as  though  the  music  for  the  next 
dance  would  never  begin,  but,  when  it  did, 
Norroy  again  sought  the  conservatory.  As 
his  tall  figure  came  into  view,  the  silk-knick- 
erbockered  figure  of  Mona  Larrabee  rose 
from  the  bay  window. 

She  cast  a  careful  glance  around,  then 
caught  Norroy's  arm.  "She  is  going  to  leave 
the  ballroom  after  this  dance.  She  is  going 
to  her  room  and  change  her  dress  for  a 
traveling  suit.  He  went  into  the  smoking 
room  and  found  her  husband  playing  cards ; 
told  her  he  was  good  for  the  small  hours. 
Then  he  said  that  while  everybody  was  en 
gaged—servants  and  all— they  could  slip 
out  without  being  noticed.  He  has  his  auto 
mobile  in  a  little  outhouse  down  by  the  turn 
pike,  and  they'll  walk  to  that,  then  ride  to 
the  station  in  the  auto.  Oh,  how  can  a  wo 
man  do  a  thing  like  that !"  The  girl  paused 
for  a  moment.  "But,  really,  Yorke,"  she 

360 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

said,  very  seriously,  "I  don't  think  she 
would  have  consented  if  she  had  taken  less 
of  the  punch— -really  I  don't." 

Norroy  held  out  his  hand.  "Mona,  you're 
a  brave  little  girl.  [You've  prevented  this 
from  happening— the  credit  is  more  yours 
than  mine." 

"But  who  will  prevent  it?  How?  You 
don't  want  to  have  a  disgraceful  scene?" 

"There  will  be  no  scene.  Where  will 
they  meet  when  they  have  changed  their 
clothes?" 

"He  is  coming  to  her  room  at  one  o'clock. 
She  will  be  ready  then.  How  are  you  going 
to  prevent  it,  Yorke?" 

"I'll  tell  you  to-morrow  morning,  Mona, 
Now  give  me  your  word  again  that  you  will 
not  breathe  a  word  of  this." 

"Have  I  said  a  word— yet?" 

"No-but " 

"Well,  I  won't.  Now  that's  settled, 
Yorke.  Suppose  we  dance  this  waltz?" 

They  whirled  in  on  the  polished  floor  to 
the  music  of  the  "Valse  Bleue."  When 

361 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

the  strains  had  died  away,  they  made  their 
way  back  to  the  conservatory.  But  there 
was  no  sign  of  a  pink  Watteau  shepherdess 
there,  nor  was  Beau  Brummell  visible.  The 
morning  room  revealed  neither  of  them,  nor 
did  the  smoking  room,  into  which  Yorke 
Norroy  ventured  alone. 

He  rejoined  Mona  a  few  moments  later. 
"Wdl,  I'm  off,  Mona,"  he  said.  "I  will 
see  you  in  the  morning.  And  so  will  Mrs. 
de  Cabanas  and  Gilbert  Clayton." 

"But  how,  YorKe?"  she  asked,  eagerly. 

"Keep  mum."  He  laid  his  finger  on  his 
lip.  "And  wait.  Perhaps  I  may  be  able  to 
tell  you  an  hour  from  now.  Wait  until  then, 
at  any  rate.  The  affair  won't  be  over  until 
three,  at  least.  Wait  until  then.  And  now. 
for  the  moment,  adios." 

He  left  the  morning  room  and  ascended 
the  stairs  which  led  to  his  apartment. 


362 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  WORKING  OUT  OF  THE  PLOT. 

When  Norroy  reached  his  own  room  he 
switched  on  the  electric  light  for  but  a  single 
moment.  In  that  moment  he  possessed  him 
self  of  a  very  minute  Remington  revolver, 
and  took  the  skeleton  key  from  the  tail  pock 
et  of  the  claw-hammer  coat  which  lay  across 
a  chair.  Then  he  glanced  at  his  watch,  and 
saw  that  it  was  ten  minutes  to  one.  He  ex 
tinguished  the  light,  opened  his  door  a  trifle 
and  knelt  down  by  the  opening.  He  could 
see  faint  rays  of  light  through  a  crack  in  the 
door  of  Mrs.  de  Cabanas'  room,  and  he 
knew,  from  several  bumps  and  jars  that  he 
heard,  that  she  was  tossing  articles  about  the 
room— evidently  packing. 

It  was  pitchy  black  in  the  passage-way, 
for  Norroy  had  taken  the  precaution  to 
switch  off  tEe  electric  current  that  communi- 

363 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

cated  with  the  chandelier  near  his  own  room. 
Save  for  the  occasional  jolt  from  Mrs.  de 
Cabanas'  room,  it  was  also  very  quiet.  Nor- 
roy  waited. 

Presently  the  sound  of  footsteps  coming 
down  the  hall  could  be  heard— though  the 
footsteps  were  very  light,  and  the  pedestrian 
seemed  to  be  treading  softly.  They  stopped 
before  Mrs.  de  Cabanas'  door,  and  Norroy 
could  faintly  distinguish  a  man's  form. 
Then  came  a  light  tap— followed  by  two 
louder  ones— on  the  door.  A  moment 
passed.  The  man  tapped  again.  Cautious 
ly  the  door  was  opened. 

"I  am  not  ready,"  said  a  woman's  voice. 
"I  am  not  ready.  Go  away." 

"Go  away?"  came  in  Clayton's  tones. 
"No,  no,  Cecilia,  let  me  in." 

"I  can't.  I  won't.  Come  back  later.  You 
can't  come  in."  The  door  was  closing  when 
Clayton  threw  his  shoulder  against  it  and 
it  flew  open— a  great  flare  of  light  in  the 
darkness  showing  Mrs.  de  Cabanas  attired 
in  a  gray  traveling  dress. 

364: 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

There  was  an  angry  protestation,  and  the 
door  closed  again.  But  this  time  Clayton 
was  on  the  inside  of  it.  Norroy  heard  a  key 
turn  in  the  lock. 

For  a  moment  he  cogitated.  Then  he  saw 
that  this  action  on  Clayton's  part  had  made 
his  own  plan  far  easier  than  before.  With 
a  grim  smile,  Norroy  arose  in  the  darkness 
and  took  down  the  telephone  receiver. 

"Hello— yes,  Miss  Grey— give  me  the 
smoking  room,  please."  There  was  a  whirr, 
and  some  one  growled  out:  " Well— who's 
this?" 

Norroy's  ability  to  mimic  the  tones  of 
others  was  never  better  displayed.  "I  want 
to  speak  to  Senor  de  Cabanas,"  he  said 
weakly,  and  in  the  tones  of  a  woman  in  pain. 
"His  wife."  "Oh— excuse  me,  senora," 
said  the  voice  at  the  other  end,  more  civilly. 
A  silence,  and  then  the  tones  of  the  Ande- 
vian  broke  the  silence,  inquiring  in  Spanish 
as  to  the  wants  of  his  wife.  "I  am  ill— I 
have  gone  to  my  room— I  am  very  sick- 
come— at  once,"  was  the  reply,  in  Mrs.  de 

365 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Cabanas'  voice. 

With  another  smile,  which  almost  threat 
ened  to  become  a  chuckle,  Norroy  placed 
the  receiver  on  its  hook  and  crossed  the  pas 
sageway  into  the  bathroom.  He  fitted  the 
skeleton  key  in  the  door  and  opened  it  noise 
lessly,  coming  (into  contact  with  the  por 
tieres.  Clayton  was  speaking. 

"We  can't  put  off  going.  It's  to-night 
or  never!  You  must  go,  Cecilia—you  must 
go!" 

"What  right  had  you  to  come  in  here?" 
she  demanded.  "What  right?  This  is  my 
husband's  room  and  mine." 

"You  promised  me  you  would  go  to-night. 
The  special  car  will  be  ready  for  us.  We 
can  slip  out,  and  no  one  will  be  the  wiser. 
My  automobile  is  waiting " 

"I  can't,  Gilbert-oh,  I  can't!"  She  was 
weakening.  But  that  she  was  sorry  that 
she  had  made  the  promise  was  evident. 
"Gilbert,  I  can't.  I  was  foolish  when  I  made 
that  promise.  I  couldn't  face  the  world. 
We've  done  nothing  yet  that  can't  be  re^ 

366 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

trieved.  I  have  been  faithful— but  if  we  go 
—I  couldn't  stand  it.  No,  Gilbert,  you  had 
better  go— you  had  better  go!" 

"I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  hie  cried, 
fiercely.  " Nothing  of  the  sort!" 

"Ssh— ssh,"  she  interrupted.  "What's 
that?" 

The  sound  of  some  one  running  rapidly 
down  the  hall  came  to  their  ears.  * '  Oh,  what 
is  it,  Gilbert?  Who  is  it?" 

"I  don't  know,"  he  returned,  sullenly, 
"It  doesn't  concern  us,  anyway." 

The  footsteps  stopped  before  the  door, 
and  some  one  turned  the  knob.  But  the  door 
was  locked,  and  failed  to  yield. 

The  woman  staggered  back  across  the 
room.  Clayton  faced  the  door  fiercely. 

"Open  the  door,  Cecilia,"  came  the  tones 
of  the  ambassador  from  Andevia. 

"My  husband!"  the  words  came  out  in  a 
tense  whisper.  "My  husband— my  husband 

99 

"I  have  come,  dearest,"  continued  Ca 
banas,  outside.  "I  have  come.  Dr.  Eand 

367 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

will  be  here  In  a  moment." 

As  though  sustained  by  a  sudden  stimu 
lant,  the  woman  rushed  across  the  room  and 
opened  the  window  without  noise. 

"Jump  out— jump  out,  Gilbert!"  she 
whispered.  "It  opens  on  the  creek.  You 
will  only  be  wetted  a  trifle.  You  can  swim. 
Jump— jump— oh,  my  God !  if  he  should  find 
you  here " 

"I  won't  jump,"  said  Clayton,  firmly. 
"I  won't  jump.  Let  him  come  in  and  find 
me." 

The  sound  of  other  footsteps  coming  up 
the  hall  were  now  to  be  heard,  and  present 
ly  Cabanas  spoke  to  some  one  in  a  hoarse 
tone. 

"She  doesn't  answer,  Band,"  He  said. 
"She  must  have  had  one  of  her  fainting 
spells.  If  she  isn't  revived,  it  may  be  dan 
gerous.  I  haven't  a  key— what  shall  we  do  ?" 

"Why,  break  down  the  door,  of  course/' 
said  Eand,  the  surgeon,  in  a  matter-of-fact 
tone. 

.Without  hesitation,  Cabanas  thrust  his 

368 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

shoulder  against  tlie  door.  But  it  was  of 
strong  wood  and  did  not  yield.  "Wait,  I'll 
get  a  poker  from  my  fireplace,"  said  Rand, 
again. 

But  Cabanas  still  continued  to  push 
against  the  stout  oak,  and  the  cloor  creaked 
under  the  pressure. 

"Jump!"  whispered  Cecilia  de  Cabanas 
again.  "Oh,  Gilbert,  jump!" 

"No!"  he  cried.  "I'll  open  the  door— 
and  open  his  eyes  at  the  same  time.  Then 
you  must  leave  with  me."  He  started  to 
ward  the  door.  The  woman  clung  to  him. 

"Stop-stop!"  she  panted.    "Stop!" 

He  turned  to  shake  her  off,  and  at  the 
same  moment  saw  the  portieres  part  and  a 
tall,  slender  figure  in  black  silk  tights  of 
the  Elizabethan  period  appear.  In  one  hand 
the  masker  held  a  small  Remington  re 
volver. 

"When  a  lady  asks  a  favor  you  should 
accede.  Now,  don't  argue  the  question.  Go 
into  that  room— quick!" 

"Ill  do  nothing  of  the "   What  Clay- 

369 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

ton  intended  to  say  was  never  quite  clear, 
for  the  moment  his  lips  parted  for  speech, 
the  lithe  form  in  black  hurled  itself  against 
him,  and,  catching  him  about  the  neck  in  the 
crook  of  his  elbow,  Norroy  whirled  him 
about  to  th'e  entrance  -of  the  little  room. 
Then,  without  the  slightest  hesitation,  the 
secret  agent  brought  the  butt  of  the  Reming 
ton  down  on  Clayton's  head,  and  the  young 
fellow  became  limp  in  his  arms.  Norroy 
pushed  him  into  the  bathroom  and  turned 
to  the  woman,  who  stood  white  and  ghastly 
in  the  moonlight,  her  hands  covering  her 
face. 

"Mrs.  de  Cabanas,"  said  Norroy,  evenly, 
and  in  a  voice  which  was  not  his  own,  "who 
I  am  does  not  matter.  I  am  your  friend, 
for  this  once  at  least.  I  knew  of  your  in 
tention  to  run  away  with  young  Clayton. 
This  is  my  means  for  preventing  it.  A  few 
moments  ago,  by  feigning  your  voice,  I 
called  up  your  husband  on  the  telephone, 
and,  pretending  to  be  you,  told  him  that  I 
was  very  ill." 

370 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

As  he  spoke,  the  crash  of  a  heavy  instru 
ment  on  the  door  was  heard. 

"He  has  brought  a  doctor.  I  leave  the 
illness  for  you  to  explain.  I'll  look  after 
young  Clayton,  and,  so  long  as  you  continue 
to  avoid  him,  you  can  trust  me  that  this 
story  will  never  be  made  public." 

At  the  second  blow  of  the  poker  he  closed 
the  door  hastily,  and  locked  it  from  the  bath 
room  side.  Then,  in  the  darkness  of  the 
bath,  he  heard  the  blows  continue. 

The  ambassador's  wife,  her  wits  working, 
lost  no  time. 

She  hastily  tore  off  the  traveling  dress 
and  threw  it  into  a  closet.  Her  bags,  which 
she  had  been  packing,  she  threw  after  it,  and. 
pulling  on  a  lace-embroidered  robe  de  cham- 
Ire,  she  crawled  into  the  bed  and  beneath  the 
coverlet.  By  a  quick  jerk  of  the  fingers, 
she  pulled  the  pins  from  her  elaborate  coif 
fure,  her  hair  falling  in  confusion  over  her 
shoulders.  The  next  moment  the  door 
crashed  in,  and  Cabanas  switched  on  the 
electric  lights. 

371 


NORROY,r  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

At  the  sight  of  her  on  tHe  bed,  he  rushed 
to  her  side.  "  Dearest,  dearest— what  is 
wrong?"  he  cried.  "Are  you  ill?"  His 
tones  showed  the  deepest  throes  of  emotion. 

She  opened  her  eyes  slowly.  "Oh— oh 

"  she  murmured,  then  stretched  her 

arms. 

"Are  you  sick,  carissima^"  he  cried 
again.  "Ah,  Bonita,  Bonita,  are  you  ill?" 

"No,  my  husband,"  she  said,  softly.  "Not 
now.  I  was  ill.  I  am  well  now— I  am  well 
now,  Eugenio." 

For  the  first  time  realizing  what  she  had 
so  narrowly  averted,  the  satisfaction  of  still 
being  one  who  was  faithful  came  to  her  with 
sudden  gladness.  "Oh,  my  husband!"  she 
sobbed,  in  his  arms. 


372 


CHAPTBE  VI. 

THE  MISSION  ACCOMPLISHED. 

"Well,"  continued  Norroy,  when  he  had 
reached  that  stage  of  the  story,  "I  spent  a 
vigil  of  about  an  hour  in  that  accursed  bath 
room,  after  which  things  quieted  down,  and 
I  carried  young  Clayton  to  his  own  room 
and  laid  him  down  on  his  bed.  I  knew  that 
there  would  be  no  doubt  of  his  remaining  in 
his  room,  but  I  took  the  precaution  to  lock 
him  in  and  leave  the  key  on  the  outside  of 
the  door.  Then  I  returned  to  the  ballroom 
and  told  little  Mona  Larrabee  all  that  was 
needful  for  her  to  know.  I  couldn't  avoid 
that.  She  knew  too  much  already,  and  there 
was  no  way  of  letting  her  out  of  it.  She  has 
given  me  her  promise  about  it,  and  I  think 
she'll  keep  her  word." 
"And  how  did  Clayton  take  it?" 
"He  raised  a  howl  in  the  morning  about 

373 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

being  locked  in,  but  the  men  chaffed  him 
about  being  drunk  and  having  a  trick  played 
on  him.  He  didn't  say  much,  and  the  lump 
on  his  head  he  did  not  even  take  the  trouble 
to  lie  about.  He  was  waiting  to  see  Mrs.  de 
Cabanas.  She  came  down  to  a  late  break 
fast,  and,  hang  me,  if  her  husband  didn't 
dance  attention  on  her  the  whole  day.  But 
she  managed  to  get  a  word  in  with  young 
Clayton  at  some  period,  for  he  kept  relig 
iously  away  from  her  after  that,  and  did  not 
turn  his  head  whenever  her  husband  came 
his  way.  In  fact,  he  took  Cabanas'  place  in 
the  poker  game  when  Mrs.  de  C.  sent  for 
Eugenio.  I  heard  him  say  at  the  dinner  that 
this  was  his  last  Christmas  in  the  United 
States— so  I  suppose  he'll  throw  up  his  sec 
retaryship.  It's  the  only  decent  thing  for 
him  to  do." 

"He  resigned  to-day,"  said  the  secretary, 
pointing  to  a  notice  from  the  Andevian  lega 
tion.  ' '  And  thanks  to " 

Norroy  held  up  his  hand.  * '  Only  partly, ' ' 
he  insisted.  "That  little  Larrabee  girl  is 

374 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

to  be  thanked  as  mucli  as  I."  He  lighted  a 
cigarette.  * '  And  now,  with  your  permission, 
Mr.  Secretary,  I  think  I'll  keep  an  appoint 
ment  to  play  golf  with  her— at  Chevy  Chase. 
Coming  out  this  afternoon?  Oh,  well,  then, 
I'll  have  the  pleasure  of  introducing  you." 


375 


The  Friend  of  the  Chief 
Executive. 


CHAPTER  I. 

VON  LADESTBTJBG  REDIVIVTTS. 

When  Harkins,  the  valet  of  the  secretary 
of  state,  brought  in  the  card  of  Mr.  Torke 
Norroy,  his  master  was  engaged  in  exchang 
ing  his  morning  attire  for  that  of  the  after 
noon.  He  had  scarcely  begun,  and  Harkins 
had  never  before  known  him  to  hurry  quite 
so  much  over  his  toilet  as  he  did  at  that  time. 
When  fully  dressed,  he  failed  even  to  gaze 
at  his  mirrored  resemblance,  nor  did  he 
wait  for  the  loutonniere  which  the  valet  had 
ready  for  him. 

The  secretary,  in  fact,  was  very  mucM  pre- 
377 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

occupied.  Three  weeks  before  he  had  con 
sulted  with  Yorke  Norroy  in  regard  to  a 
leakage  in  the  State  department.  For  the 
second  time  his  carefully  laid  schemes  with 
regard  to  a  certain  very  important  matter 
had  gone  completely  awry,  all  due  to  the  fact 
that  a  certain  European  power,  concerned 
very  much  in  the  affair,  had  evidently  been 
made  aware  of  them  previously. 

There  had  been  informers  in  the  State  de 
partment  before,  but  these  had  been  simply 
petty  scoundrels  who  knew  nothing  save  the 
merest  tag-ends.  Their  complicity  in  the 
business  had  been  easily  discovered,  and 
they  had  been  discharged  "for  the  good  of 
the  service." 

But  this  affair  was  not  the  matter  of  a 
clerk,  a  stenographer,  or  a  messenger.  Who 
soever  it  might  be,  it  was  certainly  a  man 
holding  a  confidential  office— an  official.  The 
secretary  had  imagined  he  was  surrounded 
by  faithful  men  worthy  of  the  high  trust 
which  he  reposed  .in  them ;  certainly  he  had 
not  the  faintest  suspicion  of  any  of  them. 

378 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Yet  one  of  them  must  be  guilty. 

At  this  juncture  he  had  called  into  service 
Yorke  Norroy,  just  returned  from  Russia, 
successful,  as  was  his  wont.  Mr.  Norroy 
had  accepted  the  commission  with  his  usual 
nonchalance,  and  had  declared  that  it  should 
have  his  undivided  attention.  Yet  the  news 
papers  still  continued  to  record  his  presence 
at  receptions,  cotillions,  dinners,  and  theater 
parties. 

He  had  not  communicated  with  the  secre 
tary  during  the  time  that  had  elapsed  be 
tween  the  giving  of  the  commission  and  now. 
Yet  evidently  he  had  remained  in  Washing 
ton  the  whole  period,  and  kept  fairly  close 
to  the  Connecticut  Avenue  and  Dupont 
Circle  neighborhoods. 

No  matter  what  important  matter  might 
chain  his  wits,  Yorke  Norroy  never  forgot 
to  be  correct  in  every  little  detail  of  his 
attire.  His  slender  frame  was  attired  in  a 
frock  coat  which  seemed  to  have  been  ironed 
on  him,  and  gray  trousers,  gracefully  full 
and  creased  knifishly. 

379 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

When  the  secretary  entered,  Norroy  was 
inspecting  the  toe  of  a  very  small  patent 
leather  boot,  which  encased  his  right  foot 
and  which  had  been  slightly  scratched.  He 
was  frowning  on  this  defect,  and  did  not 
hear  the  secretary  when  he  came  in. 

The  sound  of  the  voice  of  the  head  of  the 
State  department  aroused  him  from  his 
pedal  meditations,  and  he  stretched  out  his 
thin,  tapering  hand  in  welcome.  The  sec 
retary  took  it  and  pressed  it  warmly.  He 
had  a  sincere  affection  for  Norroy,  and  a 
great  belief  in  him. 

"I  think  I  have  found  tHe  leak,"  said 
Norroy,  carefully,  as  he  lighted  one  of  his 
ever-present  cigarettes  of  the  gold  crest ;  "in 
fact,  it  has  gone  a  little  beyond  thought.  I 
am  sure  of  him." 

"You  mean  that?"  The  secretary's  tone 
was  almost  eager.  "Whom  do  you  sus 
pect?" 

Norroy  held  up  his  hand,  protestingly. 
"Just  a  moment,  Mr.  Secretary,  please! 
Kemember  I  have  not  really  any  proof 

380 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

against  the  man— not  a  slired.  But  thero 
are  other  things  beside  legal  proof,  as  w6 
know.  There  were  four  men  who  had  your 
confidence  to  the  extent  which  made  it  pos 
sible  for  them  to  know  what  has  been  given 
away.  In  the  past  three  weeks  I  have  de 
voted  a  great  deal  of  my  time  to  keeping 
track  of  these  four  men,  with  the  result- 
as  is  generally  the  case— that  the  man  whom 
I  suspected  least  has  apparently  turned  out 
to  be  the  traitor. 

"I  was  first  attracted  to  him  by  the  fact 
that  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  going  over 
to  Baltimore  on  an  average  of  three  times 
a  week.  This  was  only  four  days  ago.  Up 
to  that  time  I  had  no  reason  whatever  to 
suspect  him.  But  the  persistent  visits  to 
Baltimore  became  a  trifle  suspicious.  Con 
sequently,  several  nights  ago  I  was  on  the 
same  train  that  landed  him  at  Mount  Koyal 
station,  only  he  was  in  the  Pullman,  while 
I  took  the  chair  coach,  in  order  to  prevent 
his  seeing  me.  Naturally,  I  was  in  disguise, 
but,  disguise  or  not,  if  he  saw  the  same  man 

381 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

too  often,  I  knew  lie  would  be  on  the  watch 
—if  he  were  guilty. 

"He  took  a  cab  at  the  station  and  gave 
an  address  on  Charles  Street.  I  knew  the 
neighborhood,  and  was  afraid  at  the  time 
that  my  theory  had  a  hole  in  it.  Neverthe 
less,  I  followed  him  in  a  second  cab,  promis 
ing  the  driver  an  extra  fee  if  he  kept  the 
other  in  sight.  When  the  driver  of  the  first 
cab  got  into  the  block  on  Charles  Street 
corresponding  with  the  number  given,  his 
fare  put  his  head  out  and  gave  other  direc 
tions.  So  we  were  driven  into  a  little  side 
street,  demi-fashionable  and  very  quiet. 

"He  alighted  in  front  of  No.  156.  I 
stopped  my  cab  at  the  next  corner  and 
walked  back.  I  found  that  156  was  the  resi 
dence  of  the  Saxonian  consul." 

The  secretary  uttered  a  sudden  exclama 
tion. 

"That  certainly  seemed  to  be  good  ground 
for  my  suspicions.  I  walked  around  the 
block  and  inspected  it,  finally  finding  a  house 
nearly  opposite  the  one  this  man  had  en- 

382 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

tered,  which  advertised  ' Rooms  to  Let.'  I 
rang  the  bell  and  engaged  a  room— one  over 
looking  the  street  and,  incidentally,  the  Sax- 
onian  consul's  house. 

"It  was  Saturday  night  and  the  stores 
were  all  open,  so  I  went  down-town,  pur 
chased  a  cheap  suit  case  and  a  few  toilet 
articles,  and  returned  to  the  room  that  I  had 
engaged.  I  was  forced  to  pay  a  month  in 
advance  before  they  would  trust  me,  but 
all  preliminaries  over,  I  was  installed. 

"  While  I  was  down-town  my  quarry  had 
evidently  returned  to  Washington,  for  his 
cab  was  gone.  But  that  was  nothing,  for  my 
cue  was  to  watch  the  house.  Sunday  I 
spent  in  close  confinement  in  that  room,  and 
in  the  morning  I  saw  a  number  of  people 
come  out  of  the  consul's  place.  I  marked 
them  all,  but  did  not  judge  any  of  them  to 
be  the  man  I  wanted.  I  was  perfectly  sure 
that  Saxonia  had  sent  one  of  her  cleverest 
secret  agents  to  play  this  game,  and,  as  I 
know  a  number  of  them  by  sight,  I  wanted  to 
see  which  one  was  receiving  the  news. 

383 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Late  in  the  afternoon  I  had  my  reward. 
I  was  keeping  my  binoculars— I  bought  a 
cheap  pair  for  the  occasion— trained  on  the 
door  most  of  the  time,  and  when  anyone 
passed  I  leveled  it  on  his  face.  And  whom 
do  you  imagine  it  was?" 

"Ehricke?"  hazarded  the  secretary. 

Norroy  shook  his  head. 

'  *  Not  Von  Ladenbur  g  ? ' 9 

"Herman  von  Ladenbur  g,"  affirmed  Nor 
roy.  He  drummed  on  the  table  with  his 
tapered  fingers  and  watched  the  secretary's 
face.  "Herman  von  Ladenburg,"  he  re 
peated,  with  a  ring  of  triumph  in  his  voice. 

"I  should  have  imagined  that  Saxonia 
would  be  rather  afraid  to  send  him  to  the 
United  States,"  commented  the  secretary. 
"Was  he  disguised?" 

"He  was  not  disguised.  He  came  out  in 
company  with  the  consul's  daughter,  and 
they  evidently  went  on  the  Charles  Street 
stroll.  I  waited  until  that  night.  Our  friend 
came  again.  That  was  enough  for  me— to 
start  on." 

384 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"But  who  is  this  you  speak  of?"  queried 
the  secretary. 

"Arthur  Kennedy,"  replied  Norroy, 
calmly. 

He  lighted  another  cigarette  and  began 
to  blow  rings,  as  though  the  making  of  these 
airy  festoons  were  the  most  important  of 
avocations. 

"Arthur  Kennedy!"  almost  choked  the 
secretary.  "Arthur  Kennedy!" 

Norroy  waited  until  the  secretary  had 
mastered  his  emotion.  "No  other,"  he  de 
clared.  "Do  you  blame  me  for  not  suspect 
ing  him  at  first?" 

"If  I  did  not  know  you  so  well,  Norroy, 
I  would  blame  you  for  suspecting  him  at  all. 
Do  you  know  that  Kennedy  was  in  the  war 
with  the  President?  That  he  is  one  of  his 
friends— his  personal  friends"?  There  is 
hardly  a  man  in  the  diplomatic  service  that 
the  President  likes  so  well;  it  was  he  who 
put  Kennedy  in  office,  you  remember?" 

"Mr.  Secretary,"  drawled  Norroy,  "do 
you  imagine  that  I  allowed  Kennedy's  con- 

385 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

nections  to  escape  me  ?  I  know  all  the^e  is 
to  know  about  him,  I  fancy.  That  was  part 
of  the  game." 

"But  are  you  absolutely  certain?"  The 
secretary's  tone  was  still  a  trifle  protesting. 

The  secret  agent  flicked  the  ashes  from 
the  tip  of  his  cigarette.  "A  few  moments 
ago  you  said  you  knew  me  quite  well.  That 
being  the  case,  you  know  I  say  nothing  of 
which  I  am  not  absolutely  certain.  I  have 
not  said  Kennedy  was  guilty  of  anything  ex 
cept  visiting  a  house  in  which  resides  a  se 
cret  agent  of  Saxonia,  whose  presence  I 
have  yet  to  know  yields  anything  but  harm 
to  the  country  in  which  he  happens  to  be  re 
siding." 

"You  realize,  then,  that  you  have  no 
proof,  and  also  that  such'  a  story  told  the 
President  would  be  instantly  discredited?" 

Norroy  smiled  tolerantly.  "Considering 
my  personal  and  official  acquaintance  with 
the  President,  I  know  him  well  enough  for 
that.  The  whole  situation  lies  thus:  We 
have  no  proof  against  Kennedy.  We  can- 

386 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

not  remove  him  from  office  without  the 
President's  say-so.  It  is  evident  that  the 
President  will  not  give  it  on  the  thin  evi 
dence  adduced.  So  long  as  Kennedy  remains 
in  office,  just  so  long  the  information  will 
continue  to  go  to  Von  Ladenburg,  assuming 
that  Kennedy  is  guilty— a  mere  hypothesis. 
The  moment  we  show  a  suspicion,  Kennedy 
will  be  off." 

The  secretary  looked  perplexed,  even 
worried.  "What  then,  Norroy  ?"  he  wished 
to  know. 

Norroy  hitched  his  chair  a  few  lengths 
nearer  that  of  the  secretary,  and,  bending 
forward  in  the  closest  proximity  consistent 
with  comfort,  outlined  his  plans  in  a  very 
low  tone. 

The  secretary  listened  intently,  some 
doubt  apparent  on  his  countenance. 

When  Norroy  had  concluded,  and  was 
rubbing  his  thin  fingers  together,  examin 
ing  them  minutely  for  some  trace  of  unclean- 
liness,  the  secretary  said  nothing,  but  gazed 
at  some  papers  on  his  table  with  a  preoc- 

387 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

cupied  air. 

The  secret  agent  recognized  immediately 
that  something  was  troubling  his  chief.  He 
finally  raised  his  eyes  and  asked  as  to  the 
reason  for  silence. 

The  secretary  cleared  his  throat.  "You 
know  the  President,  Norroy,"  he  said;  "you 
know  how  much  he  dislikes  what  he  terms 
4 the  chicanery  of  the  State  department,'  and 
how  he  insists  that  this  country  should  not 
stoop  to  the  same  machinations  as  other 
powers.  This  is  the  case  of  his  own  personal 
friend,  and " 

Norroy  spread  out  his  delicate  hands  in 
an  expostulatory  manner.  "It  is  safe— • 
perfectly  safe.  I  see  no  other  way."  His 
tone  was  indifferent,  and  he  spoke  as  though 
the  topic  concerned  him  not  at  all. 

The  secretary  sighed.  "I  suppose  I  can 
persuade  the  President,"  he  said ;  "although 
I  incur  the  risk  of  falling  very  deeply  into 
his  bad  graces  if  your  suspicions  are  not 
verified.  You  say  you  want  Von  Laden- 
burg  's  photograph  ? ' ' 

388 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

'"I  do,"  agreed  Norroy.  "You  have  it 
here,  if  I  am  not  mistaken.  I  obtained  it  for 
you  in  1900,  when  I  was  in  Berlin." 

"I  have  it  here,  if  any  place,"  returned 
the  secretary.  "But,  at  all  events,  you  know 
Von  Ladenburg's  face  well  enough  with 
out  it.  Of  course  it  would  be  an  aid.  I'll  see 
if  I  have  it" 

He  unlocked  a  private  drawer  in  his  es 
critoire  and  took  out  a  bunch  of  keys.  Se 
lecting  one  of  them,  he  opened  an  innocent- 
looking  cupboard,  which  hid  from  view  a 
large  iron  safe  built  into  the  wall.  He 
twirled  the  knob  about  several  times  until 
the  combination  was  formed,  and  the  safe 
door  swung  open.  From  a  locked  compart 
ment  within  he  took  out  a  bundle  of 
photographs — pictures  of  foreign-looking 
persons  of  all  nationalities,  some  in  gaudy 
uniforms,  some  in  plain  dress,  but  all  with 
the  same  shrewd,  keen  expression  of  counte 
nance.  He  selected  one  after  a  prolonged 
search,  and  handed  it  to  Norroy,  after  which 
he  locked  the  various  doors,  and  returned 

389 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

the  keys  to  their  place. 

"Let  me  look  at  it  again,"  said  the  secre 
tary. 

He  gazed  at  it,  mentally  comparing  the 
pictured  form  with  that  of  the  man  who 
stood  before  him.  Then  he  sighed,  and 
handed  it  back. 

"You  may  be  able  to  do  it.  I  know  your 
knack  of  disguises.  Your  height  is  about 
the  same  as  his,  but  his  girth  is  nearly  twice 
yours.  However ' ' 

"We  will  see,"  finished  Norroy.  "The 
performance  will  begin  at  nine."  He  smiled. 
"I  will  need  two  trusty  men.  One  must  be 
able  to  speak  good  German— Wammell 
should  do  for  that,  I  fancy.  I  had  him  on 
the  Legieux  case,  you  remember?  And 
Henry  Coman  will  do  for  the  second.  Will 

you  send  them  to  my  apartments,  at " 

He  examined  his  watch.  "Four  o'clock, 
please?" 

The  secretary  noted  the  names.  Norroy 
picked  up  his  swagger  stick  and  gloves. 

" Until  nine,   Mr.    Secretary,"  he  said. 

390 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Lighting  another  cigarette,  and  gracefully 
saluting  his  chief  with  the  case,  he  made  his 
exit. 


391 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  METHODS  OF  YOKKE  NORROY. 

"Mr.  Williams  will  see  you  in  a  moment, 
sir,"  said  the  office  boy,  as  lie  pushed  for 
ward  a  chair  for  Norroy.  "He  told  me  to 
ask  you  to  kindly  wait." 

There  was  no  sign  on  the  glass-paned  door 
of  the  little  antechamber  which  opened  on 
the  office  of  Homer  Williams— nothing  to 
indicate  the  occupation  of  the  man  who  rent 
ed  the  rather  expensive  rooms.  Yet  every 
hour  of  the  day  saw  passing  in  and  out  peo 
ple  whose  names  were  familiar  to  the  read 
ing  public  through  the  medium  of  the  news 
columns.  They  did  not  state  their  business 
to  the  placid-looking  youth  who  mounted 
guard,  nor  had  this  youth  a  very  tangible 
idea  of  the  status  of  his  employer,  or  the 
reasons  that  led  these  celebrities  to  consult 
him. 


392 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Homer  Williams  was,  without  doubt,  a 
master  in  his  own  peculiar  line— a  line  so  far 
removed  from  the  average  profession  that 
he  was  not  in  any  danger  of  losing  his  pat 
ronage  through  rivalry.  His  talent  lay  IB 
the  matter  of  handwriting.  To  him  came 
bank  employees  with  checks  which  they  had 
reason  to  believe  were  doubtfully  signed; 
lawyers  needing  proof  that  certain  docu 
ments  held  by  opponents  were  fraudulent; 
society  folk  who  had  taken  up  the  fad  of 
reading  character  through  chirography ;  and 
many  other  manners  and  conditions  of  men 
and  women. 

Within  the  prescribed  moment  the  door 
to  Williams'  office  opened  and  a  rather  cor 
pulent  man  passed  out.  Norroy  turned  his 
head  hastily  to  avoid  recognition,  and  when 
the  outer  door  had  shut  upon  his  last  client 
Williams  spoke  the  secret  agent's  name. 

Norroy  took  the  outstretched  hand  and 
accepted  the  invitation  to  enter  the  artis 
tically  furnished  room  which  served  the 
chirographic  expert  as  a  sanctum  sanc- 

393 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

torum.  The  "diplomat  seated  himself  in  a 
comfortable  Morris  chair  and  offered  Wil 
liams  his  cigarette  case.  Williams  accepted, 
and  reciprocated  with  a  light,  and  for  a 
short  space  the  two  men  eyed  each  other. 

"It  has  been  some  time  since  I  have  had 
the  honor,  Mr.  Norroy,"  observed  Wil 
liams.  "  Something  exceptionally  interest 
ing  to  hand,  I  suppose— as  usual?" 

Norroy  snapped  the  catch  to  his  cigarette 
case  and  replaced  it  in  his  pocket.  Then  he 
returned  Williams'  gaze  of  inquiry. 

"Well— rather,"  he  returned.  "You  will 
pardon  non-explanation,  won't  you?" 

"I  am  not  naturally  inquisitive,"  re 
turned  Williams,  readjusting  his  scarf  in 
the  glass  opposite.  "I  need  only  enough  to 
work  on." 

The  diplomat  threw  back  the  folds  of  his 
outer  coat,  and,  feeling  within  an  inner 
pocket  of  his  frock,  brought  out  a  Japanese 
pocket  case,  ornamented  with  neolithic  drag 
ons,  from  a  compartment  of  which  he  took 
a  small  envelope. 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Here  is  a  specimen  of  the  handwriting 
of  Herman  von  Ladenburg,"  said  Norroy, 
giving  the  envelope  to  the  chirographer. 
"It  is  a  note  which  he  wrote  to  me  some  time 
ago." 

"But  it  is  addressed  to  'Herr  Wolfgang 
von '" 

"Quite  so,  Mr.  Williams,"  interposed 
Norroy. 

Williams  looked  at  him  half  humorously, 
and  then  inspected  the  paper.  "A  strong, 
aggressive  handwriting,"  he  remarked. 

"That  is  ' Exhibit  A,'  "  said  Norroy.  He 
drew  a  folded  paper  from  the  pocketbook. 
"  This  is  '  Exhibits.'"  He  held  it  up.  "As 
you  will  note,  it  was  written  to-day,  for  the 
ink  is  still  blue.  Also,  as  you  know  my  hand 
writing,  you  will  readily  see  that  it  is  writ 
ten  by  me.  It  is  in  German.  I  will  trans 
late  : 


Dear  Mr.  Kennedy:  Important  discoveries  of  to-day 
have  made  it  necessary  for  me  to  come  to  Washington. 
I  must  see  you  at  once.  The  man  who  delivers  this 
note  may  be  trusted.  He1  will  bring  you  to  me.  Do 
not  hesitate  to  accede  to  whatever  he  may  request,  and 


395 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

do  Hot  stand  upon  the  order  of  your  coming,  but  come 
at   once. 

Herman    von    Ladenburg. 
Five    o'clock.      Wednesday. 

Norroy  folded  up  the  paper  again.  Wil 
liams  was  scrutinizing  the  signature  of  the 
Bogota  note. 

"You  catch  my  meaning,  Mr.  Williams?" 
queried  Norroy,  tapping  lightly  on  the 
paper  in  one  hand  with  the  tapering  fin 
gers  of  the  other,  and  looking  squarely  into 
Williams'  eyes. 

Williams  wrinkled  his  brow,  and  avoided 
Norroy's  gaze.  "I  should  prefer  that  you 
state  explicitly,  Mr.  Norroy,"  he  said. 

Norroy  sighed.  "If  I  must— -I  suppose 
I  must.  In  plain  words,  I  want  the  note 
which  I  have  just  read  copied  in  the  hand 
writing  of  that  one. "  He  pointed  to  the  Bo 
gota  epistle.  "More  that  that,  I  must  have 
it  at  four  o'clock  this  afternoon.  Tou  are 
quite  able  to  do  it,  are  you  not?" 

The  chirographic  expert  laughed  uneasily. 
"Oh,  I  dare  say,"  he  agreed.  "Oh,  I  dare 
say,  but  "—he  paused,  as  though  about  to 

396 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

take  a  nasty  morsel— "it  is  forgery,  you 
know?" 

The  secret  diplomat  dropped  Ms  cigarette 
in  the  ash  tray  and  brushed  a  few  flecks  of 
dust  from  his  coat. 

"You  know  me  well  enough  to  know  I 
have  good  reasons  for  what  I  want  done. 
I  can't  argue  the  question  with  you,  nor 
can  I  explain  any  further.  Will  you  under 
take  it?" 

He  mentioned  the  sum  to  be  paid:  a  fair 
figure.  Williams  hesitated— -and  was  lost, 
for  it  went  against  the  grain  to  refuse  to  do 
such  a  piece  of  work,  so  easily  accomplished, 
and  for  which  the  remuneration  was  more 
than  adequate. 

"Yes,"  he  agreed,  slowly,  and  with  the 
appearance  of  reluctance;  "I'll  So  it;  but 
only  because  it  is  you  who  ask  me,  Mr.  Nor- 
roy.  I  don't  care  to  establish  a  reputation 
for  doing  that  sort  of  thing.  It  isn't  health 
ful.  And  I  need  hardly  say  I  don't  want 
the  fact  that  I  have  done  it  mentioned. " 

Norroy's  teeth  snapped  together.    "It  is 

397 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

hardly  part  of  my  code  of  ethics  to  tell  any 
thing  not  positively  necessary,"  he  said. 
"You  need  not  fear  on  that  score  where  I 
am  concerned." 

He  produced  a  check  book  and  filled  up 
one  of  the  blanks,  which  he  gave  to  Wil 
liams.  Then,  from  another  pocket,  he  took 
some  sheets  of  paper  and  envelopes  to 
match. 

"Official  paper  of  the  Saxonian  Foreign 
Office,"  he  said,  briefly.  "They  have  the 
crest  and  watermark.  The  copy  is  to  be 
made  on  one  of  them  and  the  envelope  ad 
dressed  to ':  He  picked  up  a  pencil  and 

wrote  on  a  memorandum  pad : 

Hon.  Arthur  M.  J.  Kennedy, 

The   Pendleton, 
1912  J.  Street,  N.  W. 

He  laid  aside  the  pencil  and  stood  with 
his  back  to  the  fireplace,  gazing  down  with 
marked  disapprobation  on  the  scratch  which 
marred  the  polished  surface  of  one  of  his 
boots.  "Destroy  the  original  draft  in  my 
handwriting  when  you  have  copied  it,  and 

398 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

destroy  that"— lie  pointed  to  the  address 
he  had  just  written— "  but  return  me  the 
original  Von  Ladenburg  note.  It  is  a  sou 
venir."  He  smiled  slightly.  "  Return  it 
with  your  copy  of  mine." 

After  a  few  more  words  he  bade  Williams 
good-day,  and  quitted  the  office  build 
ing.  He  turned  into  P.  Street  and 
passed  leisurely  along,  bowing  to  many  men, 
and  lifting  his  gray  sombrero  to  more  wo 
men  ;  with  some  of  the  latter  he  stopped  to 
chat  for  short  periods,  then  strolled  on. 

At  Thirteenth  Street  he  debouched  into 
Pennsylvania  Avenue.  He  stopped  before 
the  stage  entrance  of  the  National  Theater, 
lighted  another  cigarette,  and  passed  in  on 
the  stage,  where  scantily  attired  women  in 
dress  rehearsal  were  being  taught  new  terp- 
sichorean  effects  by  the  ballet  master. 
Norroy  singled  out  the  press  agent  of  the 
theater  from  among  a  number  of  men  on  the 
O.  P.  side  of  the  stage.  He  crossed  and  spoke 
to  him. 

"Why,  it's  Mr.  Yorke  Norroy!"  said  the 

399 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

gentleman  of  the  pen  and  "dog"  story,  loud 
ly  enough  for  those  in  near  proximity  to 
hear.  Several  of  the  coryphees  standing 
near  by  craned  their  necks  for  a  view  of  the 
gentleman  whose  name  was  coupled  so  often 
with  others  who  had  been  known  to  "angel" 
productions  for  struggling  maidens  with 
cravings  for  the  high  lights  and  the  center  of 
the  stage. 

But  Norroy  appeared  to  be  absolutely  ob 
livious  to  the  many  charms  so  lavishly  dis 
played.  "Where  can  I  find  Penniman?"  he 
asked  the  press  agent.  Penniman  was  the 
"make-up"  man  of  the  theater,  an  artist  in 
his  way,  and  invaluable  when  shows  requir 
ing  numbers  of  supernumeraries  played 
there.  Even  leading  lights  in  the  profession 
of  histrionics  were  not  averse  to  'taking  sug 
gestions  from  Penniman. 

"Penniman— why,  he's  down  in  the  main 
dressing  room  giving  some  *  broilers'  hints 
on  how  to  be  beautiful  from  behind  the 
lamps.  Shall  I  call  him?" 

"I  wish  you  would."    THe  press  agent 

400 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

dispatched  one  of  the  stage  hands  on  the 
errand,  and  the  fellow  returned  followed  by 
a  lean,  wrinkled  old  man  with  stained  fin 
gers,  loosely  fitting  black  clothes,  and  a  big 
bow  of  black  silk  tied  under  a  huge  Byronic 
collar. 

Norroy  held  out  his  hand,  and  tHe  "make 
up  man"  greeted  him  effusively.  The  old 
fellow  cared  little  for  Norroy's  social  posi 
tion,  admiring  him  from  a  professional 
standpoint  solely.  Norroy  had  often  called 
for  Penniman's  assistance  in  the  amateur 
theatricals  which  had  gained  the  secret 
agent  a  reputation,  and  it  was  one  of  Penni- 
man's  sorrows  that  Norroy  would  not  em 
brace  the  stage  as  a  profession. 

"I've  been  with  Booth,  sir,  and  with  Law 
rence  Barrett,  sir,"  he  had  been  wont  to 
say.  "I've  seen  John  McCullough  from  no 
further  than  you  stand  now,  and  I've  helped 
make  up  the  elder  Salvini  every  night  for 
weeks.  And  I've  seen  their  imitators— for 
they  have  no  successors,  sir.  I  know  an  ac 
tor  when  I  see  one—a  real  actor,  no  pretty 

401 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

boy  that  the  girls  go  wild  over  because  he 
has  a  soft  voice  and  a  Piccadilly  accent— I 
say  I  know  an  actor,  sir— and  you  are  one, 
if  there  ever  was  one.  It's  none  of  my  af 
fairs,  Mr.  Norroy,  but  why  don't  you  go  in 
to  the  profession?"  This  had  been  his  oft- 
repeated  wail,  but  he  had  discontinued  it  as 
he  saw  it  was  without  effect. 

Norroy  consulted  his  watch.  "It's  after 
two  o'clock,  Penniman,"  he  said;  "and  I 
haven't  had  my  lunch.  Have  you?  No? 
Well,  it's  time  you  had,  then.  Come  up  to 
my  rooms  and  break  bread  with  me,  will 
you  ?  I  wish  you  would.  I  want  to  talk  with 
you  about  something  very  important." 

The  old  man  acceded,  and  followed  the 
secret  agent  out  of  the  stage  door,  leaving 
the  "lydies"  of  the  chorus  in  a  state  of  in 
dignation.  Norroy's  cold  eyes  had  swept 
their  ranks  in  much  the  same  way  he  would 
have  surveyed  a  line  of  soldiers,  except  that 
there  was  less  interest  in  the  gaze. 

"No  business  until  after  lunch,  Penni 
man,"  said  the  secret  agent,  when  they  were 

402 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

seated  in  his  breakfast  room,  with  old  Jef 
ferson,  Norroy 's  darky,  serving  as  epi 
curean  a  lunch  as  might  be  partaken  of  in 
Washington.  '  '  What  were  you  saying  about 
the  Siddons'  death  mask?" 

The  old  man,  given  a  chance  to  converse 
on  his  hobby,  talked  volubly  and  entertain 
ingly,  Norroy  making  observations  and  put 
ting  questions  which  showed  him  to  be  fully 
conversant  with  the  subject  in  hand. 

When  they  had  lunched,  old  Jefferson 
swung  back  the  doors  of  the  library,  and, 
after  placing  coffee,  liqueurs  and  cigarettes 
on  a  little  tabouret  near  both  men,  with 
drew. 

The  conversation  continued  on  the  same 
lines  until  the  cigarettes  had  been  finished; 
then  Norroy  drew  from  his  pocket  the  pho 
tograph  he  had  obtained  from  the  secretary 
of  state  earlier  in  the  day. 

"Do  you  notice  that  particularly,  Penni- 
man?"  queried  the  secret  agent,  as  he  hand 
ed  the  pasteboard  to  the  " make-up"  man. 
"That  is  to  be  my  latest  development  in  the 

403 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

way  of  Thespic  disguises." 

The  old  man  studied  the  portrait  careful 
ly.  Norroy  continued: 

"I  want  to  make  up  in  such  a  way  that 
people  knowing  that  man  well  would  be  un 
able  to  say  that  I  am  not  he.  I  know  his 
tones  and  can  imitate  them " 

"That  you  can— you  can  imitate  any 
thing,"  broke  in  Penniman,  admiringly, 
"Only  one  as  good,  and  that  Miss  Loftus." 

Norroy  frowned  at  the  interruption. 

"I  am  approximately  the  same  height. 
For  the  rest  of  the  resemblance  I  depend 
on  you.  I  know  something  about  make-up, 
of  course,  but  this  affair  is  rather  too  deli 
cate  for  me  to  handle— or  I  think  it  is.  I 
might  possibly  make  shift  to  do  it ;  but  why 
try  my  amateurish  hand  when  you  are  in 
town?" 

Penniman  murmured  something  indis 
tinctly  but  gratefully. 

"I  have  the  wig  and  cosmetics—also  the 
padding.  For  the  rest,  I  depend  on  you." 

Penniman  looked  from  the  pictured  face 

404 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

to  the  real,  and  shook  his  head  a  trifle  du 
biously. 

"Is  this  for  the  stage,  Mr.  Norroy?"  he 
inquired.  "Not  to  be  prying  into  your  af 
fairs,  but  faces  seen  from  the  stage  and  from 
the  same  level— it's  different,  you  know." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  agreed  the  secret  agent* 
"No,  it  is  not  for  the  stage." 

"Then  it  will  take  fully  an  hour  to  get  a 
fair  resemblance." 

Norroy  glanced  at  the  clock.  "I  have  an 
appointment  at  four,"  he  observed.  "I 
suppose  you  can  make  it  by  then?" 

The  alterer  of  countenances  nodded,  and 
Norroy  raised  the  hangings  of  a  couch,  dis 
closing  a  locked  box.  He  removed  draperies 
and  pillow,  and  raised  the  top,  after  unlock 
ing.  Within,  arranged  in  compartments, 
were  all  the  articles  used  in  facial  beauti- 
fication  or  distortion.  The  old  man  had  used 
the  box  before  and  knew  the  approximate 
placing  of  each  article.  He  selected  brushes, 
grease  paints,  and  other  things  necessary  for 
his  work.  Norroy  removed  coat,  vest  and 

405 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

collar,  sitting  back  in  a  Morris  chair. 

It  was  a  tedious  operation,  but  was  en 
livened  by  the  stories  Penniman  told.  Soon 
after  the  second  hand  of  the  clock  had 
passed  the  dividing  point  between  the  hours 
of  three  and  four,  Penniman  handed  Norroy 
a  hand-glass.  The  secret  agent  saw  in  it  such 
a  perfect  facial  resemblance  to  the  man  of 
the  picture  that,  for  the  moment,  he  scarcely 
realized  that  he  was  gazing  at  his  own  coun 
tenance. 

"And  now  for  the  figure,"  he  said,  after 
congratulating  Penniman  on  his  success.  "I 
have  a  suit  of  clothes  here,  made  in  Berlin 
on  the  approved  Teutonic  style,  and  which 
I  used  once  when  I  padded  for  a  German 
part.  We  will  use  that." 

Fifteen  minutes  later  Norroy  was  look 
ing  at  a  full-fledged  German  in  brown 
clothes,  cloth-topped  shoes,  a  flaring  collar 
and  wooden-like  bow  tie,  with  a  rimless 
monocle  stuck  in  his  right  eye—and  it  was 
his  own  reflection  that  he  saw  in  the  pier 
glass. 

406 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

"Parfaitement!"  he  exclaimed.  He  never 
allowed  himself  to  be  enthusiastic  in  Eng 
lish. 

There  was  a  knock  on  the  door,  and  old 
Jefferson  entered,  carrying  two  cards  on  his 
tray.  He  glanced  from  old  Penniman  to 
the  excessively  foreign-looking  person. 

"Ah— ah  begs  par  ding,"  he  said.  "Ah 
thought  Marse  Tohke  was  heah." 

'  *  What  do  you  want,  Jeff  ? ' '  The  voice  of 
his  master  came  from  the  German's  throat. 
Jefferson  had  seen  Yorke  Norroy  disguised 
before,  and  the  voice  reassured  him.  He 
handed  Norroy  the  cards. 

"De  genTmen  is  outside,  sah,"  he  in 
formed  him. 

"Tell  them  I  will  see  them  in  a  moment." 

The  negro  retired,  and  Norroy  gave  Pen 
niman  a  bank  note.  "Thank  you  many 
times.  Oh,  yes,  you  must  take  it.  And 
now— if  you  will  excuse  me!  I  hope  to  see 
you  soon  again." 

Norroy  raised  his  voice  and  bade  Jeff 
show  Mr.  Penniman  out,  and  Messrs.  Co- 

407 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

man  and  Wammell  in.  His  orders  were 
obeyed,  and  the  two  men  entered.  Their 
faces  showed  little  of  individual  character 
istics  ;  there  was  not  a  peculiarity  in  the  way 
of  personality  which  could  be  used  in  a  de 
scription  of  them  to  change  it  materially 
from  a  description  of  a  thousand  others, 
save  that  both  had  the  keen  eyes  character 
istic  of  their  profession. 

"I  don't  recognize  you,  Mr.  Norroy,"  said 
Coman,  the  elder  of  the  two;  "but  I  sup 
pose  there's  no  mistake  as  to  your  identity, 
We  had  orders  to  report  here  at  four  o'clock 
for  service  under  you.  That  is,  if  I  am  not 
mistaken  in  addressing  Mr.  Yorke  Horroy, 
although  I  must  say  I  would  never  have 
known  you." 

Norroy  took  the  monocle  from  his  eye, 
and  invited  his  visitors  to  be  seated.  "Well, 
that  is  what  I  have  striven  for,"  he  said, 
carelessly.  "And,  as  you  know,  it  is  part  of 
the  game."  He  placed  the  Scotch  and  a  si 
phon  on  the  table  and  passed  the  cigarettes. 
In  a  few  moments  he  had  briefly  outlined  the 

408 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

plan  to  be  pursued. 

"You  speak  German  well  enough  to  pose 
as  one,  I  believe?"  he  said,  addressing 
Wammell. 

Wammell  verified  the  statement. 

"So  I  remembered  from  our  experience 
together  in  the  Legieux  case,"  continued 
Norroy.  "At  six  o'clock,  then,  you  will  go 
to  the  Pendleton  and  sit  in  the  park  op 
posite.  Coman  will  wait  at  the  end  of  the 
square  with  a  cab.  You  will  drive  it,  of 
course,  Mr.  Coman ;  we  want  no  outside  peo 
ple.  Wait  in  the  park  until  eight  o'clock, 
unless  Mr.  Kennedy  comes  out  before  that 
time.  In  case  he  does,  you  are  to  imme 
diately  cross  the  street  and  hand  him  this 
letter." 

Norroy  gave  him  the  note  whicK  Williams 
had  sent  to  him  a  few  minutes  before. 

"If  Mr.  Kennedy  does  not  come  out,  at 
eight  you  will  go  to  his  rooms  and  tell  his 
servant  that  you  are  from  156  Orange  St., 
Baltimore."  Wammell  noted  the  number 
on  his  cuff.  "If  I  am  not  mistaken,  Mr. 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

Kennedy  will  see  you  on  receipt  of  that  mes 
sage,  and  when  he  grants  you  the  audience, 
give  him  the  note  which  I  have  just  given 
you.  Explain  to  him  that  the  whereabouts 
of  Graf  von  Ladenburg  are  secret,  and  that 
the  graf  has  given  orders  that  Mr.  Kennedy 
must  be  blindfolded.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
tell  him  about  the  blindfolding,  however, 
until  you  get  him  into  the  cab.  Drive  him 
around  for  about  half  an  hour,  to  give  him 
the  impression  that  he  is  going  to  a  rather 
distant  place.  About  eight-forty  drive  in 
to  the  rear  carriageway  of  the  White  House 
grounds." 

Both  of  the  men  uttered  involuntary  ex 
clamations. 

"Of  the  White  House  grounds,"  repeated 
Norroy.  "  There  will  be  a  man  at  the  gate 
to  open  it  at  that  time.  Drive  the  cab 
through  the  porte-cochere  and  into  the  sta 
ble  yard.  There  will  be  a  man  there  who 
will  open  a  trapdoor  in  the  stable  floor,  and 
let  you  into  the  cellar.  There  is  an  entrance 
into  the  cellar  in  the  room  where  you  will 

410 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

take  him,  and  I  will  be  in  that  room  and  will 
have  the  trapdoor  open  at  exactly  nine 
o'clock.  When  you 'have  left  him  in  the 
room,  you  will  go  back  to  the  cellar  and  wait 
until  I  call  you.  If  I  do  not  call  you  within 
an  hour's  time,  you  may  return  home." 

Some  further  details  were  given  them, 
and  Wammell  was  especially  drilled  on  the 
conversation  which  he  was  to  hold  with  Ken 
nedy  on  giving  the  note.  Then  Norroy  re 
quested  both  men  to  repeat  their  instruc 
tions,  and  they  did  so  to  his  satisfaction. 

"Remember  your  German  when  you  speak 
to  Kennedy.  You  might  alter  your  face  and 
make  it  a  little  more  Teutonic  in  appear 
ance.  An  upturned  yellow  mustache  will 
give  the  desired  effect." 

Wammell  murmured  compliance.  Nor- 
roy  rose. 

"Very  well,  I  shall  expect  you  and  your 
charge  at  nine  o'clock  precisely.  Remem 
ber  that  this  is  a  very  important  case,  and 
it  is  a  mark  of  high  trust  that  you  have  been 
selected  to  carry  it  out.  Until  nine,  then." 

431 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

When  Jeff  came  in,  after  showing  the 
visitors  to  the  door,  Norroy  informed  him 
that  he  was  at  home  to  no  one,  and  ordered 
a  dinner  to  be  prepared  for  himself  alone. 


412 


CHAPTEE  III. 

TO  THE  SATISFACTION  OF  THE  PRESIDENT. 

Mr.  Yorke  Norroy  was  fidgeting  restless 
ly  in  one  of  the  private  rooms  of  the  White 
House.  It  was  after  nine  o'clock,  and,  as 
yet,  he  had  seen  nothing  of  the  two  agents 
and  their  charge.  But  it  would  be  an  in 
justice  to  Norroy  to  refer  to  him  by  his  own 
cognomen  at  this  particular  time,  for  there 
was  nothing  in  the  personality  and  actions 
of  the  German  looking  person  who  sat  alone 
in  the  room  to  remind  even  his  best  friend  of 
the  Washington  cotillion  leader. 

Norroy's  changes  of  identity  did  not  stop 
with  the  alteration  of  figure  and  counte 
nance.  He  entered  into  the  character  he 
assumed,  and  sank  his  own  identity  in  it. 
For  that  reason,  Mr.  Norroy  was  not  smok 
ing  cigarettes  which  were  so  much  a  part 
of  his  daily  life.  He  held  between  thumb 

413 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

and  forefinger,  in  the  exact  manner  of  Von 
Ladenburg,  a  very  black,  very  thick  cigar, 
and  he  smoked  it  without  any  appearance 
of  enjoyment. 

There  was  a  gaping  void  in  the  center  of 
the  room,  marking  the  entrance  from  the 
cellar.  Norroy  had  raised  the  trap  some  five 
minutes  before.  Now  he  heard  footsteps  on 
the  secret  stairs  leading  upward.  His  face 
showed  signs  of  pleasure,  but  he  quickly 
banished  them,  resuming  the  stolid  Teutonic 
stare  which  was  a  part  of  the  make-up  of 
Herman  von  Ladenburg. 

Nbrroy  crossed  the  room  and  pressed  an 
electric  button  connecting  with  the  Presi 
dent's  private  library.  Then  he  switched  off 
the  electric  lights,  leaving  the  room  in  the 
half  light  of  the  yellow-shaded  lamp.  A 
moment  later  a  head  appeared  from  the  cel 
lar  entrance.  It  was  Coman's.  He  looked 
at  Norroy  inquiringly,  and  the  secret  dip 
lomat  nodded.  The  head  disappeared,  but 
came  to  view  again  almost  immediately,  fol 
lowed  by  the  body  and  a  hand,  leading  an- 

414 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

other,  who  was  blindfolded. 

The  man  in  question  was  rather  tall  and 
heavily  built.  He  was  attired  in  the  sack 
clothes,  remarkable  for  their  extreme  cut, 
which  marked  the  too  earnest  follower  of 
the  bizarre  fashions  of  the  hour.  His  large 
frame  was  out  of  place  in  the  short  curling 
coat,  tightly  fitting  at  the  waist,  and  his  low 
shoes  were  ornamented  with  enormous 
pieces  of  black  silk  ribbon,  which  served  as 
bows. 

Norroy  waved  his  Hand  and  Ooman  dis 
appeared  again,  closing  the  trapdoor  after 
him.  The  secret  diplomat  crossed  the  room 
and  untied  the  bandage  about  the  new  ar 
rival's  eyes.  The  man  blinked  and  rubbed 
his  eyelids,  then  looked  at  Norroy. 

"Ah,  Herr  Kennedy,  you  have  come,"  ob 
served  Norroy,  in  the  manner  of  the  man 
who  has  nothing  to  say,  yet  feels  that  he 
must  say  it.  "I  have  been  expecting  you 
for  some  moments." 

The  other  man's  eyes,  now  accustomed  to 
the  light,  looked  at  him  furtively.  "What 

415 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

is  this  place?"  he  asked. 

"I  should  not  have  had  you  blindfolded 
had  I  wished  you  to  know  where  or  what  it 
is,"  replied  Norroy.  For  the  first  time  he 
realized  that  Kennedy's  eyes  were  almost 
fishlike  in  their  shiftiness,  and  that  his  ears 
were  set  at  too  low  an  angle  on  his  head  for 
those  of  an  absolutely  honest  man. 

"This  is  rather  a  wonderful  proceeding," 
said  Kennedy,  looking  around  the  simply 
furnished  room  and  then  seating  himself  on 
the  side  of  the  reading  table  opposite  to 
Norroy.  "Quite  like  a  swashbuckling  novel. 
I  almost  imagined  I  was  back  in  mediaeval 
times  when  I  rode  in  that  hack  with  the 
bandage  over  my  eyes.  And  I  must  insist 
that  you  don't  summon  me  in  this  way  again. 
I  don't  like  it." 

"Secrecy— secrecy  is  necessary,"  re 
marked  Norroy.  "What  would  be  the  re 
sult  if  your  connection  with  me  was  dis 
covered?" 

Kennedy  looked  uneasily  about  the  room, 
"See  here,  Von  Ladenburg,  what  sort  of  a 

416 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

place  is  this?"    He  rose  and  eyed  the  doors 
moodily.    " Where  are  we?    Is  it  safe?" 

Norroy  grunted  in  an  imitation  of  Von 
Ladenburg  's  chuckle.  '  '  Safe ! "  he  said,  con 
temptuously.  "Do  you  imagine  that  I  do 
things  that  aren't  safe?  Why  did  I  have 
you  brought  here  so  secretly?  For  your 
own  good,  Kennedy.  If  anyone  in  Wash 
ington  who  knew  me  managed  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  my  person,  the  news  would  fly 
to  the  ears  of  your  secretary,  and  a  dozen  se 
cret  agents  would  be  shadowing  me— and 
I  don't  like  your  secret  agents,  my  friend; 
some  of  them  are  too  infernally  clever." 

Oh,  yes,"  returned  Kennedy,  carelessly, 
we  have  some  clever  agents.  But  I  wish 
to  know  why  you  sent  for  me,  Von  Laden- 
burg,  and  I  wish  to  have  this  matter  over 
at  the  earliest  possible  moment.  What  do 
you  want?" 

"I  want  to  warn  you.  There  is  a  certain 
man  in  the  service— a  secret  agent.  He  is 
the  same  man  who  worsted  me  in  Colombia. 
He  knows  that  I  am  in  the  United  States. 


417 


H 
it 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

He  knows  that  I  have  been  stopping  with 
the  Saxonian  consul.  I  saw  him  yesterday 
on  Orange  Street,  and  he  passed  almost  as 
closely  to  me  as  I  stand  to  you." 

Kennedy  started  as  though  struck  violent 
ly,  then  sank  into  a  chair.  "Norroy!"  he 
said,  fearsomely. 

"Yes,  Norroy!"  repeated  the  owner  of 
that  name.  "That  is  the  reason  I  sent  for 
you— to  warn  you.  I  think  the  warning  is 
needed." 

Kennedy  rocked  to  and  fro  in  his  chair 
for  a  moment.  Then,  placing  his  hands  on 
the  table,  he  leaned  across,  his  face  very 
near  to  the  disguised  secret  agent:  "If 
Norroy  is  on  this,  Von  Ladenburg,"  he  said, 
earnestly,  "I  am  quits.  I  have  been  in  the 
State  department  too  long  not  to  know  that 
when  that  dandified  devil  takes  things  in 
hand  it  is  generally  all  over  with  the  parties 
he's  after.  Your  warning  is  good,  Von  La 
denburg.  This  is  the  last  meieting  you  and 
I  will  ever  have " 

"Impossible!"  Norroy  broke  in.     "You 

418 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

know  I  can't  leave  this  thing  unfinished  as 
it  is.  That  Meyrick  affair  came  to  a  head 
to-day.  What  of  it?" 

Kennedy  felt  in  his  pockets,  and  drew  out 
some  notes.  "This  is  the  last,  Von  Laden- 
burg,"  he  said,  seriously.  "I  needed  the 
money,  and  I  needed  it  badly.  But  I  don't 
need  it  so  much  now  that  I  can  afford  to 
figure  as  a  Benedict  Arnold  in  my  country 
men's  opinions.  Here  is  all  I  know  of  the 
Meyrick  case— and  it  is  all  there  is  to 
know." 

Norroy  took  notes  as  Kennedy  spoke.  He 
was  quite  familiar  with  the  case,  and  knew 
that  it  interested  Saxonia  more  than  any 
other  which  had  come  up  for  some  time.  He 
also  knew  that  for  Saxonia  to  be  made  aware 
of  the  plans  of  America  in  this  affair  meant 
that  America's  plans  would  not  be  carried 
out.  As  he  listened,  his  eyes  grew  dark  and 
lowering.  This  treachery  was  worse  than 
he  had  anticipated. 

When  Kennedy  finished,  Norroy  thrust 
his  notes  into  the  pocket  of  his  loose  coat. 

419 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC   AGENT 

For  some  time  he  said  nothing.  He  was 
waiting  and  listening.  He  had  heard  an 
other  sound  on  the  steps  of  the  cellar  below. 
For  a  moment,  a  glint  of  amusement  dis 
placed  the  frown.  Then  came  a  distinct  rap. 

" Another  visitor/'  he  said.  "Will  you 
excuse  me  for  a  second,  Kennedy?"  He 
raised  the  trapdoor,  and  the  face  of  Carson, 
a  third  secret  agent,  appeared. 

Carson's  eyes  took  in  Kennedy's  figure, 
but  Carson  was  too  well  disguised  for  Ken 
nedy  to  recognize  him.  To  keep  up  the  il 
lusion,  he  spoke  to  Norroy  in  German. 

"He  came  quietly  as  a  lamb  at  first.  He 
is  made  up  with  whiskers  and  wig— rather 
palpable.  Pennsylvania  station  at  eight 
sharp.  I  gave  him  the  word,  and  then  took 
him  to  the  cab.  When  I  had  driven  him  as 
far  as  Indiana  Circle,  and  suggested  the 
bandage,  he  became  suspicious,  and  I  had 
to  knock  him  on  the  head.  He  hasn't  come 
to  yet." 

Carson  was  speaking  in  a  whisper,  and 
Kennedy,  whose  knowledge  of  spoken  Ger- 

420 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

man  was  rather  imperfect,  did  not  catch 
what  was  said. 

"Push  him  up,"  said  Norroy,  curtly. 

The  next  moment  an  inanimate  body  was 
thrust  upward  and  to  the  floor  of  the  room. 

"A  whistle  and  a  knock  when  I  need  you, 
Carson,"  whispered  Norroy.  The  trapdoor 
shut  down  again. 

Kennedy  walked  forward,  his  hand  on  his 
revolver  pocket  and  suspicion  in  his  eyes. 
"What  in  the  devil  is  this?"  he  demanded, 
angrily,  touching  the  body  with  his  foot. 
"You  can't  murder  people  in  Washington, 
Von  Ladenburg." 

Norroy  smiled  peculiarly.  "This  is  not 
murder,  Kennedy,"  he  said.  "The  man  is 
simply  senseless,  that  is  all."  He  moved 
across  the  room  and  laid  his  hand  on  the 
knob  of  the  door.  "If  you  will  pardon 
me!" 

As  he  spoke,  he  opened  the  door  and 
passed  out  of  it  before  Kennedy  was  aware 
of  his  project.  Kennedy  heard  the  key  turn 
in  the  lock.  Subconsciously  he  became 

421 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC   AGENT 

aware  that  something  had  happened  which 
seriously  concerned  him. 

He  sat  down  and  lighted  a  cigar,  staring 
dumbly  at  the  body  on  the  floor.  He  was  en 
deavoring  to  figure  out  exactly  what  the 
whole  proceeding  meant.  As  yet  he  had  no 
doubt  but  that  the  man  he  had  spoken  with 
was  Von  Ladenburg,  but  there  was  that  in 
Norroy's  manner,  as  he  closed  the  door, 
which  made  Kennedy  uneasy.  He  could  not 
determine  the  object  of  Von  Ladenburg  in 
bringing  in  the  body. 

An  idea  flashed  across  his  mind,  but  it 
seemed  so  silly  that  he  rejected  it  after  a 
moment's  consideration.  Still,  it  gave  him 
uneasiness  to  even  think  of  it.  Suppose  Von 
Ladenburg  had  killed  this  man  and  left  him 
locked  in  the  room  with  the  corpse.  It 
would  point  to  Kennedy  as  the  murderer. 

The  idea  impressed  him  sufficiently  to 
make  him  rise  and  examine  the  body.  He 
removed  the  bandage  from  the  eyes.  There 
was  something  hauntingly  familiar  about 
the  face,  but  Kennedy  could  not  exactly 

422 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

place  it.  For  one  thing,  the  eyes  were  closed, 
robbing  the  countenance  of  its  natural  ex 
pression. 

Kennedy  felt  the  man's  heart  nervously. 
It  was  still  beating.  For  this  he  uttered  a  si 
lent  thanksgiving.  There  was  a  carafe  of 
water  on  the  table  and  a  decanter  of  brandy. 
He  took  both  to  the  side  of  the  prostrate 
man  and  forced  the  liquor  between  the 
clinched  teeth.  Then  he  bathed  the  head  with 
the  water. 

Presently  the  eyes  began  to  flicker.  When 
they  opened  and  the  man  stirred,  a  groan 
proceeded  from  his  lips  and  he  pressed  his 
hand  to  his  head,  where  a  large  contusion 
showed  he  had  been  struck  heavily  with 
some  blunt  weapon.  The  second  sound  to 
come  from  him  was  a  vigorous  "Donner- 
wetterl" 

At  the  sound  of  the  voice,  Kennedy's  gaze 
was  frozen  on  the  man's  face,  and  the  man, 
looking  up,  regarded  him. 

"So !"  he  said,  with  a  snarl.  "It  was  you, 
after  all."  He  arose  to  his  feet  and  threw 


423 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

a  glance  of  malevolence  at  the  State  depart 
ment  official. 

It  was  now  Kennedy's  turn  to  place  Ms 
hand  to  his  head.  Was  he  dreaming  or  was 
he  mad?  The  voice  was  unmistakable.  It 
was  the  same  voice  that  had  held  converse 
with  him  a  few  moments  before;  the  voice 
of  the  man  who  had  quitted  the  room-— or, 
rather,  the  tones  he  had  affected. 

"Good  heavens!  Who  are  you?"  he  cried, 
wildly. 

6 1  Who  am  I  ?  "  growled  the  other.  <  *  Who 
am  I?  Confound  your  impudence,  Ken 
nedy!  Who  am  I?"  With  a  sudden  move 
ment  he  jerked  off  wig  and  whiskers,  and 
Kennedy  found  himself  looking  into  the  eyes 
of  Herman  von  Ladenburg. 

' '  Von  Ladenburg ! "  he  muttered.  *  '  Von 
Ladenburg!"  He  arose  and  walked  the 
room  unsteadily.  ' '  Von  Ladenburg ! ' 9 

"I  am  happy  you  obtain  so  much  pleas 
ure  from  repeating  my  name,"  said  the  Sax- 
onian,  his  teeth  clinched  and  his  fingers 
working  convulsively.  "Now  I  want  to 

424 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

know  what  in  the  devil  you  mean  by  treat 
ing  me  in  this  manner.  Why  did  you  have 
me  brought  here  ?  Eh  ?  " 

"I  have  you  brought  here?"  murmured 
Kennedy.  His  mind  was  a  chaotic  whirl, 
and  he  was  now  firmly  convinced  that  he 
had  become  irrational  and  was  going  mad. 

The  real  Von  Ladenburg  drew  a  yellow 
slip  from  his  pocket  and  put  it  on  the  table 
before  Kennedy.  "Here  is  your  message  in 
the  Saxonian  secret  code  with  which  I  fur 
nished  you  for  urgent  dispatches.  It  tells 
me  to  come  to  Washington  on  the  seven 
o'clock  train,  and  a  trusty  man  will  meet 
me  in  the  Pennsylvania  depot  and  conduct 
me  to  you.  The  telegram  says  that  my  pres 
ence  is  absolutely  necessary,  and  if  I  do  not 
come  it  will  be  serious.  So  I  came.  The 
telegram  was  in  code,  and  I  knew  of  no  one 
save  you  who  was  in  possession  of  that  code. 
The  message  said  a  man  would  meet  me  at 
the  Pennsylvania  station  and  give  the  pass 
word  'Meyrick.'  He  gave  it,  and  I  went 
with  him.  When  we  had  gone  a  little  way 

425 


NORROY,   DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

from  the  station  in  the  fellow's  cab,  he  pro 
posed  that  he  bind  my  eyes.  I  naturally  re 
fused,  whereupon  he  struck  me  a  heavy 
blow  with  some  sort  of  a  stick ;  and  when  I 
became  conscious,  a  moment  ago,  I  find  you 
here." 

Kennedy,  his  hands  pressed  to  his  brows, 
was  regarding  the  speaker  without  under 
standing.  When  Von  Ladenburg's  utter 
ance  was  shortly  broken  off  at  the  finale,  the 
diplomat  could  only  stare  at  the  infuriated 
countenance  of  the  Saxonian  with  a  stare  of 
absolute  imbecility.  He  made  no  explana 
tion.  There  was  nothing  to  explain— except 
that  the  Saxonian  had  gone  mad;  or  else 
Kennedy  had.  The  more  the  diplomat 
thought  on  the  latter  question,  the  more  con 
vinced  was  he  that  he  was  correct.  Yes,  he 
had  gone  sheer,  stark,  raving  mad ;  and  this 
man  who  spoke  was  some  phantasm  con 
jured  up  by  his  neurotic  imagination. 

"Well?"  demanded  Von  Ladenburg. 
"Explain— curse  you!  Explain!  What  the 
devil  does  it  all  mean—eh?" 


426 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

He  moved  toward  Kennedy,  and  his  ges 
ture  was  threatening.  Kennedy's  hand 
sought  his  hip  pocket.  The  gesture  was  un 
conscious,  and  no  doubt  an  atavism— the  re 
membrance  of  a  threat  in  some  previous  age 
and  the  method  of  protection.  Von  Laden- 
burg  noted  the  gesture  and  stopped.  The 
heavy  wits  of  the  Teuton  overhauled  the 
events  of  the  night.  Kennedy's  action  in  not 
throwing  light  upon  them,  his  motion  to 
ward  a  concealed  weapon,  were  all  suspi 
cious. 

A  life  lived  with  death  in  close  proximity 
as  a  penalty  for  a  single  false  step  had  made 
the  Saxonian  keenly  on  the  alert  for  treach 
ery  in  any  form. 

As  he  stood  there,  looking  into  Kennedy's 
little,  shifty  eyes,  now  contracted  with 
something  akin  to  fear— the  fear  that  comes 
from  not  understanding— a  vague,  indefinite 
idea  began  to  form  in  the  mind  of  the  Sax 
onian.  Could  it  be  that  Kennedy  had  re 
pented  of  his  actions  and  was  now  selling 
back  to  his  own  government?  Everything 

427 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

seemed  to  point  in  that  direction. 

Quietly  but  ominously,  his  hand  dang 
ling,  ready  to  grip  the  weapon  concealed  in 
the  pocket  of  his  loose  lounge  coat,  the  Sax- 
onian  advanced  several  steps  and  fixed  Ken 
nedy  with  a  steely  gaze. 

"What  did  you  mean  by  that  telegram? 
Why  have  you  brought  me  here  ?  Why  was 
I  assaulted?"  The  questions  were  ripped  out 
—a  threat  in  each  interrogation  point. 

Kennedy  drew  back  as  from  a  raving 
maniac.  The  glitter  in  Von  Ladenburg's 
eyes  terrified  him.  The  diplomat  was  more 
or  less  of  a  normal  man,  and,  had  he  known 
the  facts  of  the  case,  would  not  have  been 
possessed  of  any  fear  of  Von  Ladenburg— 
nor  any  man  not  in  a  supernormal  state. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked,  partly 
from  a  desire  for  an  explanation,  partly  be 
cause  he  knew  he  must  say  something. 

As  he  spoke,  the  door  from  which  Nor- 
roy  had  made  his  exit  opened,  and  Norroy, 
divested  of  his  make-up,  entered.  The  shrill 
whistle  which  the  secret  agent  gave  and  the 

428 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

knock  on  the  floor  caused  Von  Ladenburg 
to  look  up.  Norroy  caught  the  light  in  his 
eyes  and  stepped  behind  a  pillar. 

And  then  the  explanation  came  to  Von 
Ladenburg— or,  rather,  the  explanation 
which  most  naturally  would  have  come  to 
any  man  under  the  circumstances. 

Kennedy  had  not  seen  Norroy  nor  noticed 
the  whistle,  but  he  did  noteVonLadenburg's 
hand  thrust  quickly  into  his  coat  pocket. 
Immediately  his  own  flashed  out  a  revolver, 
but  not  sooner  than  Von  Ladenburg. 

"You  traitor!"  cried  the  Saxonian,  sibi- 
lantly. 

Norroy  saw  the  flash  of  steel,  and  the  two 
shots  rang  out  almost  simultaneously. 

The  secret  agent  rushed  forward  just  in 
time  to  see  Kennedy  clap  his  hand  to  a  thin 
streak  of  blood  which  trickled  from  his  fore 
head.  The  diplomat  held  himself  erect  for 
a  moment  and  looked  down  at  the  body  of 
the  Saxonian,  which  lay  where  it  Had  fallen 
when  the  bullet  penetrated  the  left  side. 

For  a  moment  Kennedy  was  master  of 

429 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

himself.  Thto  he  swayed  and  staggered, 
and  he,  too,  went  down,  as  stiffly  as  a  tree 
which  has  received  the  final  blow  of  the 
woodman's  ax. 

Two  entrances  opened— one  the  trapdoor, 
from  which  sprang  Carson,  Wammell,  and 
Coman.  The  three  secret  agents,  however, 
moved  not  a  muscle  when  they  saw  a  panel 
at  the  other  end  of  the  room  slide  back  and 
the  figures  of  two  men,  in  the  conventional 
attire  of  the  evening,  step  quietly  into  the 
room. 

Norroy,  who  had  been  kneeling  at  the  side 
of  Kennedy,  looked  up  at  the  double  excla 
mation  of  Carson:  "The  President!  The  sec 
retary!" 

The  chief  executive  moved  across  the 
room,  but  without  his  customary  elasticity 
of  step.  His  eyes  lacked  luster,  and  he 
looked  the  picture  of  a  man  who  has  received 
a  crushing  blow,  a  great  sorrow. 

"You  heard,  your  excellency?"  inquired 
Norroy,  in  a  low  tone. 

The  President  waved  his  hand  toward  the 

430 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

panel.  "I  was  behind  there  all  the  time. 
Is  he  dead?" 

"They  are  both  dead,  Mr.  President,"  re 
turned  Norroy,  still  speaking  in  a  low  tone 
as  befitted  the  presence  of  death.  "Von  La- 
denburg  through  the  heart,  Kennedy 
through  the  head."  Norroy  had  thrown  his 
kerchief  over  the  features  of  the  late  diplo 
mat.  The  President  dropped  on  one  knee 
and  lifted  the  piece  of  cambric. 

He  looked  long  and  steadily  at  the  fea 
tures  of  the  dead  man.  Then  he  arose,  and 
there  was  a  suspicion  of  tears  in  his  voice 
as  he  spoke. 

"I  heard,  Mr.  Norroy,"  he  repeated. 
"You  have  done  the  state  a  great  service." 
He  dropped  the  kerchief  over  the  fast  glaz 
ing  eyes  of  Kennedy  and  looked  downward 
at  the  inert  mass  which  had  once  been  a  man. 
"But  he  saved  my  life  once— and  he  risked 
his  own  to  do  it,  I  had  always  thought  him 
my  friend." 

Silence  fell  on  the  room— a  silence  which 
revealed  the  fact  that  many  men  were 

breathing  heavily. 

431 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   UNEXPECTED. 

It  was  afternoon,  in  the  little  house  on  the 
retired  street  where  Norroy  reported  to  the 
secretary  of  state  the  intricacies  of  the  af 
fair  which  were  not  plain  to  his  chief. 

"But  you  said  nothing  beforehand  of  the 
coming  of  Von  Ladenburg,"  said  the  secre 
tary.  "We  had  not  expected  his  coming— 
nor  the  tragedy " 

"I  was  not  sure  that  Von  Ladenburg 
could  be  decoyed  in  that  manner,"  Norroy 
explained,  igniting  his  fifth  cigarette.  "It 
was  a  half -formed  idea— hardly  more.  I  do 
not  like  to  promise  things  which  may  not 
happen,  so  I  said  nothing  of  it,  and  em 
ployed  Carson  on  my  own  hand.  However, 
I  rather  foresaw  what  would  happen  when 
Von  Ladenburg  and  Kennedy  were  brought 
together.  Both  would  naturally  be  suspi- 

432 


NORROY,  DIPLOMATIC  AGENT 

clous;  and,  as  neither  could  explain,  each 
would  believe  the  other  guilty  of  treachery. 
My  entrance  set  the  spark  to  the  tinder, 
and " 

"So  it  was  premeditated,  then?"  broke  in 
the  secretary,  almost  startled. 

"  Hardly  that.  But  I  rather  imagined 
that  if  such  an  end  could  be  consummated, 
the  United  States  would  be  free  from  the 
trouble  of  punishing  the  guilty  ones,  and— 

?? 

"Norroy!"  interrupted  the  secretary, 
Norroy  looked  all  attention.  For  a  moment 
his  chief  only  gazed  at  him— then,  slowly: 
"You  remember  that  Kennedy  referred  to 
you  as  a  ' dandified  devil'?" 

A  faint  smile  wreathed  the  lips  of  the 
secret  agent.  "Why,  yes,"  he  returned. 
"I  do  remember  that  airy  bit  of  persiflage." 

"No  persiflage,"  stated  the  secretary, 
solemnly.  "A  good  description— an  excel 
lent  description,  Torke  Norroy." 


433 


THIS   BOOK   IS   DUE   ON   THE   LAST  DATE 
STAMPED   BELOW 


RENEWED   BOOKS  ARE  SUBJECT  TO  IMMEDIATE 
RECALL 


LIBRARY,   UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

Book  Slip-Series  458 


N9  826515 

PS3515 
Howard,  G.F.B.  0826 

Norroy,  diplomatic      N6 
agent . 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


